Summersville: Summersville, #1

By Danielle Kathleen

In this suspenseful, small-town young adult mystery, Carmen, her wealthy best friend Crystal, and her bullying nemesis Cinnamon, are all starting their freshman year in high school. Carmen wants to be excited, but there is something she can't shake, a feeling of unease. She struggles under the microscope of constant scrutiny to be perfect because of her football star big brother and everyone's high expectations of them both.

 

Then she meets preppy bad boy RJ, who has transferred from the arch-rival private academy under a cloud of scandal, and everything changes. RJ and Carmen have instant chemistry, but her parents strictly forbid her from ever speaking to him.

 

RJ and Carmen find a way to sneak around and be with one another. RJ comes clean about why he was expelled from his old school. Trust builds, and on New Year's Eve they decide to attend a party together at her father's sports bar. Everyone is having a great time, then a horrific scream comes from the back room. Carmen rushes in and finds a girl from school on the floor, stabbed and dying.

 

Carmen, RJ, Crystal begin to investigate and ask questions. They peel away layers of hatred between their parents and family members. Secrets are revealed that were meant to stay hidden and never be talked about.

 

Summersville is book 1 of a planned ongoing series starring these same characters as they experience each year leading to adulthood.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Danielle Kathleen
• Release date: Mar 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685151355

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE:

Carmen

I refused to look at my cell phone for the time. I was in bed, wide awake, nerves getting the better of me, and waited for the alarm to sound off. Once the chime bells alarmed, I quickly snatched my phone, jumped out of bed, and ran into my closet. I changed and changed again. This was the first day of my freshman year, the first day of impressions, the long-lasting effects of social media.

Nothing seemed to satisfy the urge that screamed to me, This is the one! Up here in the mountains, fall was starting to take over summer, so a summer dress was out of the question. Leggings were last year’s go-to. I slapped on a pair of jeans, an off-the-shoulder black-sequined shirt, and instead of tossing up my long brown hair, I let it hang down and gave myself a new part as my bangs swept to one side.

I kept my makeup simple, because if I was to even try a big, thick black liner, not only would my mother make me go upstairs to wipe it off, but my dad sure would give me the third degree and take me to school. I kept it light and simple.

The smell of bacon lured me downstairs to the kitchen. I didn’t even need to see if both of my brothers were awake as they argued over the last pancake. Most of the time, their manners were playful, which drove my mom crazy because she never knew when to take them seriously.

Trotting down the stairs, the loud, annoying squeals coming from my brother’s as they playfully fought with one another over the last pancake. They ate every meal as if it was their last, shoveling in as fast as they could and laughing at one another.

Morning, I said, greeting everyone, kissing my mom on the cheek, and grabbing my small portion. My nerves were getting the best of me. Even two pancakes looked enormous. It was a tradition on the first day of each year that Mom woke up early and made us pancakes and bacon.

Jason smirked at me as I sat at the table. Ready for school, sis? A sarcastic grin grew on his face. I rolled my eyes. Don’t start. You’re not going to scare me.

Boys, don’t scare your little sister. My mom, Debra, was already annoyed at the thought, with their constant joking and mental torture. We’re not going to rehash what Jason went through. Debra put a pancake on my plate and gave the boys a serious look.

Mom, we wouldn’t dream of it. The sarcastic, smooth tone of my older brother Ryan made me roll my eyes. I turned around to see his grin. My other brother, Jason, joined in, and I shook my head, walking to the table.

I heard the door from the garage swing open widely. My dad did this all the time, forgetting the door didn’t weigh fifty pounds like he was used to at work. He greeted my mom, like always, with a brief kiss on the lips, grabbed his cup of coffee, and joined us at the table.

You nervous, Carmen? he asked, sipping his coffee. Boys, I need you to be watchful of your sister. No games. He winked at his daughter.

Both of my brothers stuffed their faces with the last bites of their pancakes and tried to answer and gesture that everything was going to be fine. All three of them, at the same time, held their glasses the same and gulped down their drinks.

Watching this, I was in awe of how none of them recognized this behavior in one another. All three were oblivious to how all their mannerisms were just alike.

Ryan’s cell phone chimed: the signal that they all needed to leave in order to get to school on time. He and Jason jumped up from the table, grabbed their backpacks, kissed our mom on the cheek, and headed out the front door.

I calmly put my bowl in the sink, not as eager to head out as they did, like a tornado. I wished my parents a good day and walked out the door.

Shotgun! Jason called when the front door closed behind me. I took a deep breath. The joke never seemed to get tired with him as much as it did with me.

Get in. Ryan, grinning too proudly, patted the middle seat.

This was my first day of high school. Sitting in the middle of them would wear off my perfume, and I would sadly drape their strong cologne onto my clothes. I’m not sitting in the middle of you two.

No way. I’m not—

We’re going to be late. Ryan was a stickler for being on time.

Three… Jason suggested the playful game of rock paper scissors with his hands.

As our fists pounded into our other hand, on three, Jason had paper and I had scissors. I couldn’t help myself and grinned as Jason moaned and groaned and hopped into the truck.

I slammed my door shut, the heavy metal from the ‘90s frame squeaking and rubbing together. The heavy metal music blasted from Ryan’s new speakers that we joked were worth more than his truck.

Jason leaned to Ryan. Do you think your truck can go any faster? I’d like to get there before Carmen’s senior year begins. He laughed.

Ha ha. She’s getting there. It’s a ninety-seven; what do you expect? He pressed down harder on the gas pedal. The engine roared deep with the new exhaust he installed last Christmas.

I stared out the window most of the ride, ignoring the conversation both of my brothers were sharing about Ryan’s football schedule and Jason’s baseball. They ignored me, which I was content with. I watched the younger kids rush up toward the road for their bus stop.

As the truck was closer to the school and climbing up the hill of Doller Street, most of the school attendees grew in numbers walking with friends. Already excited for the start of the year. I wanted to be more enthusiastic, but for some reason I was dreading the first day. I couldn’t shake off the feeling.

After passing the cabins and large homes in the area, there was a break between houses and forest, and Ryan’s truck made the turn into the parking lot of Summersville High School. He drove and parked in the rear of the school, next to the football field and with his other teammates.

Everyone who was anyone could tell where the football team parked. All their trucks were the same color of navy blue or close to it. Each had a silver-and-white strip painted on somewhere. Their pride and egos were bigger than their hearts.

For the last three years, I attended the same building, just on the other side was the middle school. It was silly of me to feel nervous about attending the high school, but for the first day I actually got to walk into the building and walk on the tile side of the building instead of carpet.

The nerves I carried with me were because I actually felt that pride of being on this side and hanging out with the rest of the high schoolers. The three of us walked alongside one another. The gasps at seeing my brothers, the stares and whispers about us: that was not new. My family had a good reputation, as I knew too well. Ryan was the star of this side of the building. Now he was returning as a senior.

Between the pats on the back and name-shouting from their guts, I had about enough of my last name. Ryan and Jason were boastful of the attention they received. They were the small celebrities of the school.

The cafeteria was loaded with kids gathered around in their social circles, holding their schedules, complimenting their new styles, and eager to see one another.

You could tell who was not familiar like myself, as they asked their friends where some classes and the direction of the freshmen hall locker room were.

As soon as Ryan and Jason saw their group of friends, they disregarded me and went straight over. I smiled and nodded to those whom I knew, and I would associate myself with, but I wasn’t in the best mood to talk.

I went to go look at my schedule, and I was engulfed by long, skinny arms.

Oh my God! We are finally freshmen! The screech of excitement from Crystal made me crack a smile. She bounced as she hugged me. I wanted to join in on her enthusiasm, but I didn’t have it in me.

Her long, tightly curled hair nearly swallowed me. I made fun and coughed and spit, and she rolled her eyes like she had a hundred times already.

When I was finally face-to-face with my best-friend, I couldn’t help but notice the heavy look of her makeup. I tried to hide my shocked face, but she went a tad overboard with the winged liner and contouring her face.

Why all the makeup? I said between us. I didn’t want others to notice what I did, or they did and because of who she was, they wouldn’t say anything or be honest.

It is too much? Crystal twirled the bottom of her hair in her fingers. She did this when she was shy. I was hoping for the I’m-older-than-I-seem look. She talked the confidence right into herself.

Good call. The sarcastic tone in me took over without a second thought. You went from freshman in high school to a freshman in college.

It’s not that dramatic! Crystal naturally defended herself. We went arm in arm, as she had her schedule in hand. Plus, my mother sets the trend in the fashion industry. I can set the trend in school.

Studying our schedules, I was trying to lead us in the direction of our lockers, and Crystal was trying to see which classes we had together. Look at that. My mother did come through. We have the exact same day. She grinned and handed me my schedule.

I was happy about that. Crystal and I haven’t been apart since kindergarten. Others found it odd at times, but this was who we were. Always together.

First period was English with Mr. Morrison, a man we knew our entire life and my father’s best friend. I was fond of him and his family, three beautifully athletic daughters with that dark, olive-Italian skin and ink-black hair.

Mr. Morrison was a schoolgirl-crush favorite. He was easy on the eyes with his thick, neatly trimmed black beard. Whenever Crystal and I were invited to his house, she couldn’t help herself and stared at Mr. Morrison.

Can you stop drooling? I whispered in her direction as we took our seat next to one another.

Crystal couldn’t help herself and shook her head. I’ve got it. He’s a man’s man. An Abercrombie and Fitch lumberjack kind of a man. She looked toward me as though expecting me to confirm.

I leaned in so only the both of us could hear one another. A man who used to change your diaper.

Annoyed, Crystal would not allow me to have the satisfaction. Don’t lie. My nanny did that.

The boys in the classroom stopped talking when they saw Samantha Morrison enter the room. Her beautiful, bright-green eyes found Crystal and me, and she gave a small wave of hello. She walked right up to her dad and asked him for money for lunch.

Softhearted Mr. Morrison reached in his pocket and handed her money. Now don’t go asking your mother for more. Your sisters do that enough already.

Samantha gave her father a kiss on the cheek and headed out the door to her class. All the young men’s heads turned in her direction as she left.

When Mr. Morrison turned to his class as the first bell rang, the young men in the room snapped their heads back to him in unison. He knew who they were staring at. He had a hard enough time with all three daughters already.

Hey, do you have to work this weekend? Crystal leaned over.

Of course. Mom always keeps me busy at her salon. What’s up?

Crystal whispered to me in secret. My mother has a few designers coming in. I thought it would be fun for us to show them some of our designs for the next issue.

The excitement in my heart and grin on my face defused my somber mood immediately. This was a rare opportunity, and we knew it. We had worked so hard on our own designs most of the summer.

As eagerly as I wanted to jump at the idea, asking my mom for another Saturday off was going to be a nightmare. I had taken off so much time already, and she had to pay other hair stylists to come in and help. Hearing how she was losing money was not a pleasant conversation I would want to rehash again.

I’ll see if I can ask, but timing is everything with her. You know that.

Excuse me, but that’s my seat.

My stomach turned, my temper about to flare. My ears perked immediately at the sound of her annoying me. My eyes couldn’t help but tear up at the sugary, overpowering perfume. I gave a little cough, choking as my eyes glanced in her direction.

Really? You already want to start off the first day like this? I wasn’t amused by the attention of Cinnamon, the girl I have tried over the years to have a friendship with. But her cunning, devious ways for attention never worked on me.

Do you think you and Crystal could move? I like being in this corner. Her lip-smacking, gum-chewing, full red lips nearly matched her hair.

The students around quieted to listen to the saga of Carmen and Cinnamon. I was well aware our arguments and fights were always crude, hurtful, and the downright best kind of reality TV.

I felt the pressure around me. Others wanted to know what I was going to say, but I made a promise this school year to try not to give in to her snarky remarks.

It’s a square-shaped room, Cinnamon. I’m sure you can find the other three corners. Nope, I couldn’t help myself and gave in. She had this effect on me. Just looking at her made my blood boil.

Cinnamon stood her ground. Not only did all the eyes stare in my direction, but hers never lifted off me.

You can sit over here, Cinnamon. Another schoolmate patted his leg, making the whole class laugh out loud.

Mr. Morrison strolled back into the room as the third and final bell rang. He closed the door and suggested Cinnamon take the seat in front of me. She went to protest, but he clearly stopped her and suggested the seat again.

Sitting away from her friends that sat in the back of the room, she was not comfortable sitting in front of me. She wanted to protest and ask the teacher to move me instead.

I raised my hand, and I swore I wouldn’t stick anything to her raggedy red hair. It gave the class a good laugh. I knew Mr. Morrison was disappointed in my answer and my slander, but he was well aware of our history.

Mr. Morrison pointed out the empty seat in front of me, and Cinnamon was displeased she wasn’t getting her way.

Typical, Crystal muttered to herself. I heard it anyway and thinned my lips to keep myself from grinning.

All right, class, welcome to the new school year. I’m Mr. Morrison, your English teacher, possibly your PE teacher, and also the varsity football coach. He scanned the room, looking around at new and familiar students. Today is an easy day. We’ll be going around the room and telling everyone what we did over the summer. Who wants to begin?

He sat back comfortably in his leather chair, kicked up his feet, and waited for someone to start. After the ten seconds of awkward silence, he sat up and said he would pick randomly.

Seriously? No one wants to inform us about what a lame summer anyone had? He got the class to chuckle at his remark. What about you, Monroe?

My shoulders shrank, I wanted to hide behind the massive red hair. As my luck would have it, Mr. Morrison volunteered me, he knew I put on the fake smile and accepted being called by my last name, just like my famous brothers.

Well…I spent the summer at cheer camp, along with Crystal, and I worked in my mom’s salon.

The cheer squads? Mr. Morrison sounded intrigued. Well, where did you and Miss Roxburgh place?

Varsity. I was a bit shy and timid to say it, only because there were other girls in the room that felt it was an unfair call over the summer. I heard their snickers, and Cinnamon didn’t even bother to turn around. I knew she was still holding a grudge, since she was JV.

Mr. Morrison clapped, and students followed. You should be proud, Monroe. You and Miss Roxburgh have worked very hard. That’s what I want to see in all of you this year: dedication and hard work. That’s the only scale to live by in life. Mr. Morrison continued lecturing the class.

I found myself allowing his words jumble in the background. It was hard to concentrate. This morning I woke up bright, chipper, excited, and since I walked through those doors, it was as though something was hanging over me.

I stared down at my desk of carved names and permanent hearts decorating the school desk. I didn’t pay it any attention, but it helped soften the mood, trying to think about nothing, feel nothing.

common

I seemed to snap out of my trance when I was in the freshman hallway and Crystal shut her locker door.

Mr. Morrison walked by and wished us both a great day. We smiled, and as he walked away, nearly all the young girls, including Crystal, watched him walk away.

He is good looking. Crystal’s lips thinned. She daydreamed for a few seconds.

It could have been because I knew the man my whole life, and I saw him as more of an uncle, but I wouldn’t allow myself to dream of anything else.

You seriously find him attractive?

You don’t? Crystal’s eyes widened.

It was time for second period. We walked slowly because the class wasn’t far away, and we didn’t want to seem too eager to get into class. Crystal was talking about why she found Mr. Morrison attractive. I wasn’t blind! I saw the same blue eyes, tanned Italian skin, and he was in great shape for his age, but I couldn’t go beyond that.

The mere thought of Mr. Morrison being attractive didn’t sit well. I got to the point where I was over-thinking it. Next thing I knew, Crystal and I were in the classroom. I found it strange, I didn’t remember much of the journey walking to class. I went from being in a classroom, hearing Mr. Morrison in the background, then at the lockers. I had lost track of time. My lips pressed together. I was fighting the urge to mention it to Crystal.

common

They need to bring a sushi bar into this lame cafeteria. Crystal carried her tray, staring at the food as though it were an experiment. Don’t you think that would be a good idea?

The thought made me smile. I agreed with a nod because it was a fantastic and tasty meal option, but no public school was ever going to have it.

Next was trying to find where our place was in this big cafeteria. I saw both of my brothers toward the back, sitting on the tables, resting their feet on the benches. They had their backs toward one another, and I couldn’t help myself and noticed how much they sat alike and laughed alike.

As girls passed them by, their voices were a higher octave of hellos and small waves, begging for their attention.

He’s still got it. Crystal stared at Jason.

Got what? I followed her gaze. I saw Jason but hoped she was referring to one of his friends.

She realized she spoke out loud and said it was nothing and walked a bit faster than me, trying to avoid any more conversation. She was safe as the cheer table toward the back was shouting for both of us to come sit.

It was a touch crowded. As I walked toward an open seat across from Samantha, I saw a few of the stares and glares as I was reaching farther down to where the juniors and seniors were.

Beaming always with her big, pearly white teeth, Samantha was excited to see Crystal and myself. How is your first day?

You should ask Crystal how first period was. The sarcasm in me just jumped at the opportunity.

Crystal shrank back