Drowning in Silence: The Northwoods Trilogy, #0

By Auria Jourdain

*Prequel to Silence the Birchwoods: The Northwoods Trilogy

 

Luke

Anyone that meets me thinks I've got it all. My best friend left for college, handing me the reigns to Rochester Hills High's popularity. I'm the King. I've got the student body groveling at my feet. With a possible shot at the National Swimming Team--and the Olympics--I broke the state record in breaststroke. The most gorgeous girl in the school--the head cheerleader and Queen--is my girlfriend. And my perfect GPA is setting me up to get scholarships at some of the best universities in Michigan.

 

Then why do I feel like the biggest loser?

 

Sure, I've got it all. But my father's constant pressure to be the best is stifling me. My girlfriend's jealousy is out of control. Worse, Colton Ramsay's little sister Penny has me tied in knots. I'm supposed to be her hero. I swore to her brother I'll forever slay her dragons. I've championed her since she was a child... since I gave her the nickname Sunshine. I consider her one of my best friends.

 

But something is very wrong with her. The school bullies won't leave her alone. She's withdrawn. Despondent. Broken. And she refuses to let me help. But I don't have it in me to quit. Some call me obsessed. I call it dedication. But I swear if it takes a lifetime, I'll save my Sunshine whether or not she wants to be saved.

 

Penny

My brother's best friend is driving me crazy. Why won't Luke Donovan leave me alone? The more I push him away, the more he stalks me. He sits with me at lunch. He walks me to classes. He stops by my house every night. His constant attention is annoying. And his girlfriend, Christy Mefford, doesn't like it one bit. Doesn't he understand that she's targeting me because of him? With the help of her minions, she'll stop at nothing to make sure I leave Rochester Hills High for good.

 

And school isn't the only problem. Since Colt left, my mother's abuse has gotten worse. Lose weight, Penelope... do the chores, Penelope... I'm doing the housework, holding down three part-time jobs, and trying to maintain my perfect GPA so I can get the heck out of this horrible town. I'm at my breaking point. What's the point of living? It can't get any worse, can it?

Never say never.

Because no matter how hard he tries, Luke Donovan will never be my hero.

He and his girlfriend ruined my life.

 

*This is a coming of age Young Adult novel set in the early 2000's. There is some language and content that isn't suitable for readers under the age of 16. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Auria Jourdain
• Release date: Nov 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201469559

Auria Jourdain

History buff, Francophile, and hopeless romantic-- the perfect mixture for writing romance! I have fond childhood memories of reading on quiet afternoons. I loved the "happily ever after" sweet teen romances, but I quickly plunged into the world of historical romance--my get-away-from-real-life transporter. Add in a degree in Political Studies with six years of French--twenty years later, I found a new career. With three published works, I'm still trying to decide which sub-genre is my favorite. I started with historical romances, and two of the six, Pure of Heart and Pure Temptation, are now published. My first YA novel, Spirit of the Northwoods, was released in April of 2016 for my 17 year old autistic son during Autism Awareness month, hoping to spread familiarity about the daily struggles that an autistic person endures. Silence the Northwoods, the first book of my Romantic Suspense trilogy, will be released on January 21, 2017. A spin-off of Spirit of the Northwoods, it has many of the same secondary characters, but it’s strictly for adults. I have a New Adult novel I’m working on for NaNaWriMo 2016, and I’d love to try my hand at a sweet romance YA series in the future. I live in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan with my husband of 21 years and my four children. I spend the long winters plotting and scheming my next book, and in the mild summers, my family and I spend every waking moment we can hiking and kayaking the Northwoods. Living fifteen miles from the shores of Lake Superior, my muse is often piqued by the awe-inspiring beauty that surrounds me. I live where I play, and I can't imagine a more fitting place for me!

Book preview

Penny

THE PAST—SEVENTEEN years ago

Rochester Hills, Michigan

December 2003

Penny Ramsay?

Startled by her fifth-grade teacher’s voice, Penny grips her pencil, marring her schoolwork. She glances around. Everyone is staring at her. Her heart patters harder. She never gets called out in class.

Pushing her tortoiseshell frames up her nose, she swallows hard. Y-yes?

Old Mrs. Cummings stands next to the desk, sadness leaching from her droopy eyes. She pats Penny on the shoulder. Get your things, dear. Your brother is waiting for you.

Penny glances out the door and frowns. Her older brother, Colton, is standing in the hall with the vice-principal, Mr. Whaley. Colt’s arms are crossed, and his lips are pressed together in a firm line. And... are those tears?

Prickles coat Penny’s arms. That can’t be good. Has something happened to their mother? She hasn’t been well. Daddy often says so, at least. Mama goes out with her friends almost every night and comes home and pukes. Then, she and Daddy fight until morning.

Opening her desk, Penny replaces her pencil case and grabs her reading primer. She closes the lid quietly, praying Mrs. Cummings will return to the lesson. The legs of the too-small desk squeal as she attempts to maneuver out of her close-fitting seat. Snickers erupt around her, followed by a few nasty comments.

Glancing at her bare legs, she squeezes her knees together. A tightness gathers in her throat. She hates wearing skirts. Her mother made her dress up for school pictures today, and her classmates teased her about her chubby legs all morning.

Penny? Come along.

Her body trembles as she finally clears the edge of the desk. Tyson Parks, sitting in the seat behind hers, whisper-sings, They call her tubby blubber the whale...

The class erupts in laughter. Heat filters across her face and stings her cheeks.

"Mr. Parks! The vice-principal sticks his head in the classroom as the rip of paper from a notepad follows Mrs. Cummings’ sharp retort. You may go with Mr. Whaley. Everyone else has a ten-minute detention from recess." Groans follow as she escorts Tyson from the room.

Colton steps over the threshold and glares at the class. Everyone goes silent, staring at him like he’s a god. In a way, he is. He’s a freshman and well-liked amongst the high school crowd.

Pen, come on. We gotta go.

The catch in her older brother’s voice sends fear through her heart. He is crying. Her bottom lip trembles as she pulls it between her teeth. With her books in hand, she ambles into the hall. What’s wrong?

Colton kneels beside her. Brushing his unruly curls from his forehead, he sniffles. His green eyes sparkle, and tears stream down his cheeks. It’s, um... it’s Dad. He was on a case, and he got shot. He’s gone, Pen. Dad’s dead. Choking out the rest of it, Colton pulls her against his chest and breaks down.

She goes stiff, numbness invading her from head to toe. No, not Daddy! It can’t be. They just had breakfast with him four hours ago. He’d made her chocolate-chip pancakes. He’d hugged her and said it’s supposed to snow this weekend.

He promised we’d make a snowman.

Standing, Colton drapes an arm across her shoulder. We’re going home. Get your things.

As if in a trance, she removes her coat and backpack from her locker. W-where’s Mom?

Home, Colt bites out. Drunk off her ass, probably.

Penny blinks the tears from her eyes. No. Daddy can’t be gone! She tries to pull out of her brother’s arms, but he won’t let go. Spots dot her vision. She shakes her head. It’s not true. You’re lying!

Pain circles her brother’s already red eyes as he rasps, I’m not! I’m sorry, Pen.

Daddy is dead?

The bell rings. The hallway erupts with noise as students leave their classrooms for lunch. As the crowd engulfs them, Colt takes her hand. She buries her face in his coat as he guides them through the noisy halls. She has no idea where she’s going. Everything spins around her. Her feet feel heavy, like she’s wading through mud.

Pulling her against his chest, Colt whispers, I’ve got you, Pen. We need to stick together, alright? I swear I won’t let anyone hurt you.

All of a sudden, laughter pours through the hallways. Released from her daze, she glances around. All the middle school students standing in the cafeteria lines that extend into the hall are staring. A few high schoolers monitoring the younger kids smirk, too.

Prickles cover Penny’s arms. What are they laughing at?

Get out of the way, dickwad.

Penny jumps as Colton’s best friend, Luke Donovan, shoves a sixth grader aside. Stepping in front of them, he drapes his jacket around Penny’s shoulders and mutters, It’s chilly in here, man. This should keep her covered.

A cold breeze fans across her butt cheeks. Shifting her weight, she glances at her legs. As her hand goes to her uncovered backside, she swallows the dread sitting in her throat. Her skirt is hiked up in the back, exposing her legs and bottom. Worse, she’s wearing bright pink panties that are a size too small because her mother hasn’t done the laundry this week.

More chuckles filter through the hall, and the name-calling follows.

All of a sudden, Colt whips around. Shielding her closer, he aims his anger at a kid snickering nearby. You think that’s funny asswipe? Try losing your dad to some drug addict! See how it feels.

He squeezes Penny harder. Shock parades through he, the cold engulfing her body. She feels nothing but ice as the world around her closes in.

The click of high heels echoes through the hall as Mrs. Donovan, the junior high science teacher rushes toward them. Everyone hush! Colton, bring Penny here. You can wait with me until your mother arrives.

Colt sniffles as he mutters, Ma isn’t coming, Mrs. Donovan. I’m walking my sister home.

Penny stiffens in her brother’s arms. It’s five miles to their house from the school. How can she walk home in the icy rain wearing a short skirt?

Egad. Mrs. Donovan sighs. I’ll get my purse. She turns to Luke. Tell Mr. Whaley I’m driving the Ramsay kids home. If I’m not back by the time lunch is over, he can keep an eye on my students.

But Mom—

No buts, Lucas. This is important.

Colton squeezes Penny’s shoulder as his voice breaks. Thank you, Mrs. Donovan.

As Luke pulls his mother aside, Penny stares at the woman, her heart melting. Luke Donovan is the luckiest boy in the world. How many times has she wished Mrs. Donovan were her mother?

The Donovans often come to their house for dinner. Her father and Luke’s are best friends. They’ve worked together for years. Even though her mother doesn’t seem to like Mrs. Donovan, the families still spend nearly every holiday together.

Concern spreads across Luke’s face, and Penny frowns. Lieutenant Donovan just became captain of the police force. Was he with Daddy when he died?

The halls are silent as Luke walks with them to the school parking lot. Pulling the jacket tighter around her shoulders, Penny studies her savior. His kind blue eyes drift to her, and his fingers graze the back of her neck. As he squeezes her shoulder, her heart pitter-patters. She leans against him, calmness seeping through her like a break in a thunderous storm.

Despite being a few years older, Luke has always made her feel special. He calls her Sunshine. When she was little, he used to play in the leaves with her and Colt. He gave her piggy-back rides and chased her around the yard.

Today, he saved her from her bullies.

A somber silence fills the hall as they walk toward the doors. He squeezes her shoulder, and she gives him a watery smile. Leaving Luke behind, she and Colt follow Mrs. Donovan to the parking lot. As they pile into the sedan, Penny grasps her brother’s hand, afraid to let go. Standing upon the steps of the school, Luke stares at them as they drive away, his sad gaze burning through her.

He gives her a little wave. Tingles erupt everywhere. She rubs her arms. She isn’t sure what these strange feelings are, but one thing is for certain.

Luke Donovan is her knight in shining armor.

Luke

FOUR DAYS LATER

I’m so sorry for your loss, Miranda. Robert was a good man. Joe and the boys and I are stunned...

Shifting uncomfortably in my finest suit coat, I stand next to my mother outside the church. Sergeant Ramsay’s funeral service just ended, and officers mill around, their voices mere whispers.

My throat clenches. It wasn’t my dad that died, but it might as well have been. Robert Ramsay was one of the best men I knew. He was a hell of a lot more supportive of Colt than my father has ever been of me. And Penny was his princess.

If there’s anything we can do, please let us know.

I glare at my father, making nice with Mrs. Ramsay. It isn’t natural. Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I squirm as they talk. Miranda Ramsay can’t stand my father. And to see him bend over backwards with apologies as if he cares about her feelings?

Dad doesn’t care about anyone but himself.

There’s been too much drama between the Donovans and the Ramsays over the years. I’ve only heard bits and pieces, but apparently, my father blames Mrs. Ramsay for the death of his first wife—my birth mother.

I never knew the woman. Melissa Donovan died when I was two years old. She and Miranda—her best friend from high school—had been drinking at one of the local bars. Instead of calling my dad to come get her, she’d wrapped her car around a tree. She died instantly.

Personally, I have no feelings about it one way or another since I was only a toddler. Besides, it was her own fucking fault, drinking and driving. She’d practically ruined my dad’s reputation—and our lives.

As Dad drones on, my stepmother squeezes my hand. I give her a watery smile. Caroline Dempsey was our saving grace. Six months after my birth mother died, my dad married my older brother Jamie’s second-grade teacher, salvaging our family and my father’s standing. Caroline comes from a wealthy Detroit home worthy of a Donovan. More importantly, she treats Jamie and me like her own.

Not that I’ve ever known the difference. For all intents and purposes, Caroline is my real mother.

Joe’s right... if there’s anything we can do...

Rolling her bloodshot eyes, Miranda sneers at Mom and sways on her feet. The hair on the back of my neck shifts. Shit... Colt doesn’t need his mother passing out at his father’s funeral.

After Melissa’s death, Miranda started drinking heavily. And it’s gotten worse. I only know that because Colt and I saw it first-hand. A year ago, I spent the night with the Ramsays while my mom and dad took Jamie on a college visit. We stayed up late watching horror movies, and about two o’clock in the morning, Miranda barreled through the front door, drunk off her ass.

Colt had played it off like it was a once in a blue moon thing, but Dad’s come home several times over the years, complaining that Miranda Ramsay was going to get herself arrested or die trying.

With her nose in the air, Miranda turns on her heels and stalks away from my parents without a word. My mother sighs, and I shrug. Probably better that way. It would suck if my parents and his mother got into an argument at Sergeant Ramsay’s funeral.

I guess the past never stays in the past.

The doors to the church squeak loudly, breaking the silence. As Colton leads his little sister outside, his shoulders sag. Sadness pierces my chest like a barbed arrow, and I clench my fists to hold back the tears. I can hardly handle this. I’d held it together during the service. Barely. But my best friend has been inconsolable the last three days, and there’s not a damn thing I can do to help.

Walking toward me, Colt gives me a somber smile. Hey, Donovan. Thanks for being here.

Wouldn’t miss it. Your dad was like a father to me, too. A lump sits at my throat. Everyone knew Sergeant Ramsay. He spent a lot of time at the school, volunteering with the D.A.R.E. program and any other safety courses the school offered. He came to my swim meets, ya know?

A snuffle leaves Colt’s nose. He loved you, too, man. He glances at his sister, sitting hunched upon the stone wall surrounding the church. Pen’s not processing it.

I stare at the young girl intently. Her usually brilliant green eyes are lifeless as she gazes at the horizon with a blank look.

She’s only ten. It has to be hard on her. Hell, I’m only thirteen, and I doubt I’d be able to handle it if one of my parents died. And I’m not nearly as close to my dad as the Ramsay kids had been to theirs.

Colt stuffs his hands in his pockets. "I mean, she hasn’t even cried. It’s like she’s living in some other world. That our dad’s death isn’t real. She won’t talk about it. She’s shut down. Is that normal?"

I huff a sigh. How would I know?

Well, your real mom died, right?

Raking my fingers through my hair, I mutter, Dude, I don’t remember her. This is totally different.

Colt’s shoulders sag. I guess so. My mom isn’t helping.

She still isn’t sober?

Tears shimmer in Colt’s eyes and his nostrils flare as he lowers his voice. You’d think she was the only one who lost someone. She’s drained my dad’s liquor cabinet. She shuts herself in her room. She barely made it here. She probably wouldn’t have if your mom hadn’t have come over and gotten her dressed. He shakes his head. Thank god I have my driver’s permit. I get Pen up and feed her breakfast. I make sure she has her homework finished. She’s my baby sister, but I feel like her parent. His voice cracks. I’m only fifteen. How am I gonna do this, man? How can I keep it all together?

As if on cue, the church doors fly wide, interrupting our somber conversation. Thank God. I have no idea how to answer Colt or even help him through this.

A handful of officers dressed in their best blues burst through, the whine of bagpipes accompanying them. Everyone goes silent. As the pallbearers transport Sergeant Ramsay’s casket down the stairs through the morning rain, every man and woman in blue stands at attention and salutes.

As they lift the casket into the nearby hearse, tears stream down my cheeks. For the last time, I turn and face my best friend’s father... the man I admired most.

I can’t believe it. Sergeant Ramsay is dead.

It’s so final.

AN EXEMPLARY OFFICER, Robert Ramsay was an even better father and friend. Our community will mourn the loss of his courage, strength, and protection for years to come.

Forty-five minutes later, I’m standing in the cold, rainy cemetery not three blocks from our house listening to my father present his long-winded eulogy. As the newly instated captain of the Detroit vice squad, he insisted upon giving Sergeant Ramsay a proper goodbye. His words.

I roll my eyes. Whatever the hell that means. There isn’t anything the Donovans like more than a public speech, and Captain Joe Donovan loves the limelight. Most of it is for show. With Dad’s family connections, his political hopes aren’t a secret. But taking advantage of the opportunity to show off at his best friend’s funeral doesn’t seem right.

I glare at my father, not quite moved by his comforting words. He shouldn’t have to say them in the first place. Sergeant Ramsay should be here with us, alive and well and joking with his kids. Maybe he would have been.

I clench my fists. The day Sergeant Ramsay died, Dad returned from work shell-shocked. Much as I wanted answers about how a routine drug bust had gone so wrong, I wasn’t about to step into his line of fire. Even my mother warned me to leave it alone.

But that doesn’t mean Dad is guiltless. Not a month ago, I overheard him arguing with Sergeant Ramsay about the promotion the department had given him. It turns out Sergeant Ramsay had been passed over because my grandfather, former Mayor Reginold Donovan, had insisted my father be appointed to the post instead.

I can’t prove it, of course. But something happened during that bust, whether accidentally or intentionally. I can see the guilt on my father’s face. Not that he’d admit to it.

I glare at him. I wish I could let it go. Stewing about it won’t bring Colt’s dad back.

My father yammers on. As he wipes an imaginary tear from his eye and begins to recite the Lord’s Prayer as if he were the Pope himself, I scowl. Such dramatic bullshit.

I’m so sick of my manipulative family. The Donovans have way too much pull in the Detroit area. It’s been going on for over fifty years. Everyone treats us differently because my grandfather was the mayor a decade ago. Or because my Uncle Gary is a congressman. And my Aunt Margo some fancy judge. And now, my father is a police captain.

The current Donovans in power have huge ambitions to reign over the state for generations. Unfortunately, my father expects Jamie and me to follow that path. Only Jamie has the desire to please. He just graduated from high school and has a full-ride scholarship to the U of M to study pre-law. With our father’s blessing, he’s on track to be carved out of the Donovan mold.

Not me. No way. I’ll be damned if my family turns me into one of their pod people.

Men, to arms!

The bagpipes moan, a heartfelt tribute to the Ramsay’s Scottish lineage. Seven officers stand at attention in the nearby field and raise their rifles. As they release the first shots, Colt pushes his sister away and falls to his knees, sobbing. My mother gathers Colt in her arms. Miranda merely stares off into the distance.

Hardly present, Penny stands alone, looking at her brother as if she can’t believe he’s crying. Confusion shifts over her features. Her bottom lip trembles. She doesn’t release a single tear. Colt’s right. She isn’t processing anything.

Pushing past the crowd, I stand next to her and drape my arm across her shoulder. My heart aches for this girl. I can’t imagine what she’s going through, but I can’t let her grieve—or not—alone.

The second sequence of shots echoes loudly around us. I glance at her and croak, Pen?

Nearly a foot shorter than me, she gazes up at me, so innocent. So trusting. I push one of her damp curls behind her ear.

She cocks her head, her brow furrowing. She leans against my chest. I draw her closer. For some reason, I feel like Penny’s protector. Maybe it’s Colt’s doing. She has tagged along on many of our adventures, and I often tease her as if she were my own sister.

Or maybe it’s the freaking bullies at school that won’t leave her alone. She’s a sweet little thing with a heart of gold, so I don’t get why kids make fun of her. When she was little, she called me her knight. Even then, I swore to slay her dragons. But now, she doesn’t have anyone except Colt to champion her.

She has me.

As the final round of the twenty-one-gun salute blasts through the air, the ultimate honor for a fallen officer, I can hardly contain my emotions. Colt is sobbing on my mother’s shoulder. Miranda stares at the coffin in a trance.

Dropping to my knees, I pull Penny into my arms. Her chest heaves. My voice catches as I squeeze her and whisper, It’s okay, Sunshine. I’ve got you.

All of a sudden, sobs escape her throat. Twining her arms around my neck, she holds onto me as if the world is ending.

For her, it just might be.

Tears stream down my cheeks as she weeps against my shoulder, her pain bleeding into mine. I look at her brother. He gives me a nod... a silent thank you. Right then and there, I know what I need to do.

Today, Penny lost her daddy. Her hero. Her king. But Colt and I have always been her knights. We need to protect her.

From this day on, I swear I’ll never let Penny Ramsay fall.

Two Years Later

This is the private journal of Penny Elaine Ramsay. Do not read!!

SEPTEMBER 2005

Why do I have to write in this stupid notebook? It’s not like I have anything interesting to say. Apparently, Mrs. Donovan, our new principal, and Ms. Eppley, the school psychologist, are concerned about me. They want me to write down my thoughts to help me deal with my dad’s death. Ms. Eppley says if I won’t talk about my feelings, this might help.

I doubt it. But I don’t have much of a choice. I have to spend every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday during lunch in Ms. Eppley’s office like a side-show freak. Luckily, I don’t have to show her my journal. That was the deal.

Maybe writing will help. The adults have no clue what’s going on. I am angry. And hurt. And tired of being everyone’s favorite punching bag at Rochester Hills Junior High.

I’m in the 7th grade. I get good marks. I’m smart. I read. I like to paint. But that’s all I have going for me. I don’t have friends. I’m not athletic enough to play sports. Most of my teachers hate me either because of my brother or because I’m a know-it-all. My classmates say the same thing.

Worse, I’m not pretty. Have you ever noticed that people forgive anyone anything if they are attractive? My blond hair is a mess of unruly curls that have a mind of their own. I wear thick glasses because I’m blind without them. Acne covers my chin and forehead.

Not to mention, I’m a little heavier than the other girls. They tease me every day. Dotty the Whale, Uber-Cow, Fat Pig, Tubby Blubber—I’ve heard it all. And if that isn’t bad enough, my mother constantly complains about my weight and hair. It only proves that she doesn’t think I’m good enough, either.

The only one who cares about me is Colt. And Luke. My protectors. My knights. But no matter what they say, even they can’t be there to save me all the time.

I’m all alone. Will I ever escape the walls that have imprisoned me since Daddy died?

Five years, eight months, and twenty-eight days. Then I’ll be free.

Penny

ROCHESTER HILLS JUNIOR High School

Seventh Grade

November  2005

Mrs. Crockett, may I talk to you?

Brandishing her books across her chest like a shield, Penny Ramsay bites her lower lip as she approaches her seventh-grade science teacher. Apprehension spoils her insides like sour milk. She’s been dreading this conversation all day. But she can’t do this anymore.

Her science fair partner, Hannah Sparks, is a nightmare. Penny has been working with her on this project for almost three weeks, and the girl refuses to help. She won’t do any research on their subject. She won’t add any insight. Even the idea of the project, behavior modification of a mammal, had been left up to Penny. Using her pet hamster Ramses as a test subject, she built the labyrinth and conducted most of the experiments herself.

What is wrong with working alone? I’m already doing it.

Glancing up from grading papers, Mrs. Crockett presses her thin lips together and sighs. Yes, Penelope. How can I help you?

Penny shuffles her feet nervously. Much as she enjoys science, Mrs. Crockett isn’t her favorite teacher. The thirtyish woman doesn’t like her. More than aware of her teacher’s feelings, Penny tries to stay under the radar, only answering questions when she’s called upon and never speaking out of turn.

But every class period, Mrs. Crockett draws attention to Penny and humiliates her. Worse, the woman paired her with the one girl who has bullied her relentlessly since fourth grade.

Penny isn’t sure why Mrs. Crockett hates her. It could be that as the junior high cheer squad coach, Mrs. Crockett knows she and Hannah Sparks have had a difficult history. Being one of Crockett’s prized cheerleaders, Hannah often manipulates situations and plays the martyr.

Staring at her teacher, Penny grips her books tighter. It probably has more to do with the rumors that Mrs. Crockett’s husband, one of the younger cops under Captain Donovan’s command, had an affair with Miranda Ramsay last summer. Not that Penny usually believes such nonsense. Nasty rumors about the Ramsay family have circulated around town for years.

Except this one is probably true. Miranda had brought Officer Crockett home several times and he’d stayed the night often.

Cringing, Penny shakes her head. No matter what she tries to do, she can’t shake her mother’s horrible reputation. The situation has only gotten worse since her dad’s death... the excessive drinking, the all-nighters with strange—and sometimes familiar—men.

Not to mention the abuse.

A sharp pain jolts from Penny’s right hip as if she needs a reminder of her mother’s wrath. Two nights ago, Miranda had shoved Penny down the stairs because she hadn’t finished the laundry.

I don’t have all day, Ms. Ramsay.

Pulled back to the present, Penny clears her throat. Um, I was just wondering if it’s possible to change partners for the science fair. As Mrs. Crockett’s lips purse, Penny quickly squeaks out, —or maybe I can do the project on my own?

Real impressive.

Mrs. Crockett’s pencil-thin eyebrows arch. Placing her papers aside, she folds her hands in front of her, her body language stating just how far beneath her she thinks Penny is. "Ms. Ramsay, we’ve been through this. The seventh-grade science fair is always conducted with a partner. Your classmates have been split into equal groups, and there are no exceptions. Besides, the presentations are in two weeks. It’s too late."

Penny huffs a sigh. But I’m doing everything by myself!

What will you do in the future—in college or beyond—when you’re expected to design a project and work with someone you don’t like? Will you bow out then?

No, but—

Squinting, Mrs. Crockett leans forward. "I paired you with Ms. Sparks for a reason. Academically, she is falling behind. I’d hoped you might be able to motivate her."

Penny’s mouth falls open. That’s nearly impossible. Hannah isn’t stupid. She’s lazy and manipulative and doesn’t care about her grades. Why should she? Her rich mommy and daddy can take care of her.

Not to mention she hates Penny with a passion.

Penny swallows hard. I don’t know if that’s possible, ma’am.

Lifting her chin, Mrs. Crockett hums. I suggest you find a way to make it work. You don’t want your grade to suffer, do you?

A snide smile curves at the petite teacher’s lips, and Penny’s heart drops to her stomach. Her grades mean everything. They’re the only way she’ll be able to make something of herself and get out of this fresh hell. That’s not fair! Why do I have to be punished because Hannah won’t work? Isn’t it your job to motivate her?

Excuse me? The muscles in Mrs. Crockett’s jaw jump.

Cursing her stupidity, Penny takes a step back. Why does she always have to run off at the mouth? Again, it’s a Ramsay curse. Colt had the same issue. Old Mrs. Trenton still doesn’t like him.

But if I don’t speak up for myself, who will?

She sighs. Ma’am, I mean no disrespect, but Hannah won’t listen to me. How am I supposed to finish the project without her help?

Ripping a piece of paper from the top of her pink pad, Mrs. Crockett scribbles a note on the bottom. I’m sure you’ll come up with something. Perhaps during detention with Mr. Fulson tomorrow morning.

A hard knock on the door interrupts them. Er, Mrs. Crockett? I’m returning the lab vest you loaned Mrs. Leavy.

Penny’s heart leaps in her throat as Luke saunters in, his hair still damp from swimming practice. He’s a freshman in high school this year, and the star of the Rochester Hills High swimming team. The last few summers, he’s been training with a private coach. The rumor is he’s Olympic material.

And the only boy she’s ever crushed on.

Ignoring Penny, Mrs. Crockett smiles broadly and stands. Luke! Good to see you, honey. Thank her for me. I miss having you in my class. You were one of my brightest.

As Luke walks toward them with his aw, shucks grin, Penny frowns. She’s never seen Mrs. Crockett so smiley. Er...

Mrs. Crockett shoves the detention slip in Penny’s hand. Tomorrow morning, Ms. Ramsay. We’re finished here. You may leave.

A vacant pain shifts across Penny’s chest as the woman dismisses her like she’s a peasant. Penny gives Luke a sidelong glance. Her body stiffens as pity springs from his eyes. It always does when he catches her in these situations.

And unfortunately, it happens more often than not.

Heat blasts across her cheeks as she takes the pink slip from her teacher’s hand. Driving her gaze to the ground, she hunches her shoulders and shuffles out of the classroom.

Tears pool at her eyelashes. Detention. Again. How is she going to get to school? It’s a five-mile walk, and it’s the middle of winter. Colt works at the diner in the mornings before classes, so he can’t take her. And if she tells her mother about this, she’ll get the belt across her backside.

What am I going to do?

Pen, wait!

Forcing back a sob, Penny walks faster. At the end of the hall, she ducks into the bathroom before Luke can catch up to her. She angrily swipes the tears from her cheeks. The last thing she needs is him seeing her blubber like the whale she is.

She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror and curses at her reflection. Every time she and Luke cross paths, she looks like she’s tangled with a bear. Her unruly blond curls sway at her shoulders, daring her to tame them. Moisture covers her puffy cheeks. Fresh breakouts of acne dot her chin and forehead.

She cringes.

Make that a Yeti.

All of a sudden, a sharp pain spikes through her belly. Sinking onto the toilet seat in the final stall, she wraps her arms around her aching abdomen and sighs. Figures.

Growing up sucks. Not only has her acne erupted like wildfire, but she recently started her period. Her mother was less than helpful. Most of what Penny has learned she googled. Worse,