My Family's Secret

By Shadahyah Elizabeth

Telepathy is an ability Arianna Miller has had her entire life. It is a gift that she and her sister have inherited from their mother but have been told to keep a secret from everyone, including Arianna's stepfather, Marshal. The only person outside her family that knows about the secret is her best friend, Rosy Mendez, who has kept the secret for years. Then on the first day of her senior year of high school, Arianna meets the town's miscreant, Evan Jackson, the son of the governor and high school principal, who she soon discovers shares the same unique ability as her. Evan has spent the majority of his life with his aunt and uncle, only coming home in the summertime, until an incident that happened when he was twelve caused his parents to keep him from returning. The last place he wanted to be was Harrison, Arizona, but after getting kicked out of his last boarding school, he was forced to return and confront his past. When their paths cross, the two suddenly feel an intense pull toward each other but are warned to stay away from each other due to a secret Arianna's "on again, off again" boyfriend, Jason Richardson, and Evan share. But how do you stay away from someone that has the same ability as you and your heart feels drawn to? Suddenly, the two find themselves entangled in a web of secrets and lies with their parents, with the new science teacher being at the center of it. A secret so big it will change Arianna's and Evan's lives forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9781646542963

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My Family's Secret

Shadahyah Elizabeth

Copyright © 2023 Shadahyah Elizabeth

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2023

ISBN 978-1-64654-295-6 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64654-296-3 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Arianna

Ari, get up, I heard a young boy say, forcing me out of a peaceful sleep. The moment I opened my eyes, I saw thick black smoke everywhere, choking me with every breath I took.

Come on, we gotta go, he said, helping me off what appeared to be a floor.

What happened? Where's Mommy? I heard myself ask in a voice that sounded years younger than the seventeen-year-old I was.

They fighting the bad people. We gotta go, he said, looking at me with his beautiful orange eyes, which complemented his caramel skin.

I scared, Jamil, I said.

It's otay, I'll protect you, he said, reaching out his little hand toward mine. Without a second thought, I took it and we ran as fast as we could out the room. The smoke got deeper the farther we ran, blinding us and stealing our breaths, but we didn't stop. We couldn't stop. Stopping meant instant death.

You can't get away from me, Ari! I heard a voice that sounded like a banshee scream through the dark. It was cold, squeaky, and sent fear throughout my entire body.

Him gon' get me! I screamed as tears stung my eyes.

No, him not. I'm gon' protect you, Jamil declared. I couldn't see three feet in front of me, but I could still feel Jamil's warm hand cupped in mine, giving me all the reassurance I needed.

Promise? I asked breathlessly.

Promise, he said over his shoulder.

Suddenly, my knees began to buckle, and I couldn't breathe. The voice had gotten louder, more forceful, calling my name over the sounds of other people's screams.

I can't run no more! I cried. My head was pounding so bad it felt like I was being beaten by a brick while the knots in my stomach were so tight I could feel the vomit creep up my throat. Suddenly, I felt myself slow down, which caused Jamil to stop.

We gotta keep going! he urged.

I can't, I said, seconds away from collapsing.

He knelt in front of me, his back to my front. Get on, I will carry you, he ordered, and I obeyed. His back was so warm, like a fluffy blanket, giving me all the comfort that I needed, making me feel safe. Suddenly, he lifted me up and started running again, this time faster than he had been before. Almost there, he called over his shoulder as I cried on his back, trying to muffle out the sounds of the screaming people and the banshee's voice.

I could feel the cool breeze coming from an open door and smell the morning dew. All we had to do was make it to that door and we'd be safe. Just as we reached the door, I felt something pull me back. Ari! Jamil screamed, right before switching places with me and throwing me out the door to safety, then the door shut, locking him inside.

Jamil, nooo! I cried.

Arianna, I heard my mother say, but I ignored her. My eyes were focused on the great stone door in front of me as my little hands fought to pull it open and rescue my friend. The door was massive, and no matter how hard I pulled, it wouldn't budge.

Let him go! I screamed as tears poured down my cheeks. My heart tightened, and suddenly breathing became an issue, and as my legs began to collapse, I heard my mother say, Breathe. And that was when I realized I was in my bedroom, crying like a baby in my mother's arms.

It's okay, I'm here, she said, soothing me the way she used to when I'd have a nightmare. Was it that dream again? she asked in her thick Bosnian accent.

Yes, I said, wiping my eyes. I don't know who he is, but I feel like I do, I added, lifting my head up to meet her eyes. She was staring back at me with a sympathetic smile and sad eyes, while her hand rested on my back.

Shh, it was just a bad dream. You'll feel better after a shower, she said, trying to reassure me.

I shook my head profusely. There was no way he was a dream; it felt too real, and I could still smell the scent of fresh jasmines and feel his little hand on mine as if he were still there.

Just because you can smell it and feel it doesn't make it real. Some dreams feel more real than reality. Plus, there is no way a child no older than five could lift you or throw you, she said after reading my mind, a trait that I and my younger sister, Nikita, also possessed. A trait that had been passed down to all the women in our mother's family for generations.

Mom, stop reading my mind, I demanded.

Well, tell your mind to stop screaming and I will, she teased.

Then teach me how to block you, I retorted. Unlike me and my sister, my mother could block her mind from us whenever she wanted to, which was annoying, especially when I wanted to find out information about my father, who, according to her, was a good man who loved his community and family.

Maybe when you're older, she said before kissing the top of my head and standing up to leave. Get up and get dressed. Today is your first day of school, she said before disappearing out the room and down the lit hallway.

I lay back down and stared at my pale-blue ceiling. The last place I wanted to go was school. Sure, it was the first day of senior year and I had been looking forward to that day ever since I was in middle school; however, the excitement about starting senior year was ruined three weeks prior by my asshole of an ex: Jason Richardson. I had liked him since middle school, then two years ago, we became a couple. A power couple. He was the hottest boy in town, captain of the football and basketball team, and I was the captain of the cheerleading squad, student body president, not to mention, the most popular girl in the entire school. We were perfect for each other, so perfect I decided to take our relationship to the next level and let him be my first.

Three weeks ago, I had spent Friday shopping for the perfect outfit and fragrance because I wanted it to be a surprise. My best friend, Rosy Mendez, and I even planned how I would bring up the subject. We went through ten ideas, including me accidentally spilling something on his shirt while he and I were at his house, before settling on the plan for me to show up at his house wearing this sexy red dress. He would open the door, and I would make the first move. Granted, it was cliché; however, it had a higher percent rate of success than the last ones.

That Saturday, I drove to Jason's house as planned. My nerves were shot because I had no idea what to expect and this was a huge step for me. I had heard people at school talk about how terrible a person was in bed, and I didn't want that to happen with Jason. At the same time, I was excited because I knew he was the one from the moment he kissed me, and I knew he felt it too. That was, until the moment I pulled up to his house. His Escalade was in the driveway, and the windows were foggy. The weather was hot; however, it hadn't rained in a few days, so I knew something was wrong. As I cautiously approached the car, warning bells began to sound, and with every step I took, they just kept getting louder, the feeling of dredge and anger sweeping over me. My mind was screaming at me to run, but my feet wouldn't listen; instead, it kept dragging me closer toward the car like a puppet on a string. Slowly I pierced through the foggy window, and to my horror, I saw a girl's head on his lap, moving up and down like a bobblehead, his own head resting blissfully on the back of his chair, with a stupid smile on his face and his eyes close. Instinctively I smashed his window with the back of my elbow, causing both him and the bimbo, who turned out to be my friend Ebony Wilson, to jump and look at me. I could still see the fear in her eyes and the guilty look on his face as Rosy, who just so happened to show up at that time, pulled me away from the car before I could kill them both.

In all my life, I had never felt so humiliated. I didn't even want to hear his name, because thinking about him made me feel stupid for trusting him and angry at myself for thinking he was the one. Now I had to go to school and deal with the aftermath while traces of that dream roamed around my head.

He had called me every day since, even showed up at my house, but I didn't answer. I was hoping he would disappear, so I'd never have to see him again. Unfortunately, that didn't happen.

Sighing, I rose to my feet and made my way to the hall bathroom, which I shared with my younger sister, Nikita. She was six years younger than me, with the same straight black hair as my mother and my stepfather's blue eyes. My mother met Nikita's father, Marshal Miller, when I was four, and they were married when I turned six. Then a year later, we moved to Harrison, Arizona, where he became the sheriff. I don't remember anything before meeting my stepfather, but it didn't matter, because we had a great life. Marshal was great and treated me the same as Nikita; it was as if he truly were my father and not some random man my mother married.

The moment I saw my hair in the bathroom mirror, I almost screamed. My hair, which my friend Rosy spent hours the day before flat-ironing because I was too stupid to go for braids, had reverted to its normal frizzy self. It was big, puffy and reminded me of the eighties. Re-flat-ironing would take time that I didn't have, so I resorted to bushing it out and throwing it into a middle bun before wrapping it and stepping in the shower.

The warm water was just what I needed after a dream like that. He can't be a dream, I thought to myself. I know I've seen those eyes before. But Mom is right. There is no way he could have lifted me up like that or thrown me out the door. Maybe what happened in the dream was a dream but he and I are the only ones that are real?

God, this is going to drive me crazy, I said, just as someone knocked on the door.

Hurry up, Aria! I need to use the bathroom and wash my hair! Nikita yelled through the door.

I just rolled my eyes and continued with my shower. One thing I loved about my hair was that I didn't have to wash it every day like the rest of my family. Just once a week or, if I had braids, whenever I felt like it.

Aria, hurry up! she whined.

I decided to give it two more minutes before turning off the shower and grabbing my towel. I then walked back up to the mirror and removed my wrap. After verifying that I still had a bun, I untwisted it and allowed it to fall into a ponytail, I then opened the door to an irritated Nikita and smiled.

Finally, she said, pushing past me, and as soon as I came out, I slammed the door behind me.

I chuckled, then made my way back to my room, just in time to answer my phone.

Hello, I said as I opened my closet to retrieve the clothes I had chosen to wear that day.

Baby, why? was all Jason could say before I hung up the phone on him. I didn't have time for his excuses or half-apologies; I had decided that senior year was going to be a great one, and I wouldn't allow Jason to bring me down.

Aria, breakfast! my mother called up the steps.

Coming! I yelled after putting on a pair of skinny jeans and a blouse that showed off my assets. I then grabbed my wedges and headed out my bedroom door and down the steps to the dining room. My stepfather was sitting in his favorite chair at the head of the table, wearing his sheriff uniform and reading the society section of the newspaper. His deep-blue eyes stared intently at that paper, as if he were afraid that he'd miss something if he looked away.

Morning, Aria. Did you sleep well? he asked, more to the paper than me.

Yes, sir, I lied as I made my way to the dining room table. Apparently, my mother had not told my stepfather about my recurring dream, as usual, and I wasn't in the mood to fill him in.

Glad to hear that, he said, just as my mother came out of the kitchen with a tray full of breakfast food. Smells good, hun, my stepfather said, finally looking up from his newspaper and smiling lovingly at my mother, who returned the gesture. I smiled. Their relationship was something I looked up to and wanted. I thought I found that with Jason, but unfortunately, I was wrong.

My mother smiled, then set the food on the table. The buttery smell of pancakes filled the air, almost making me forget about my busy day and the anger I still felt. Looks good, too, Mom, but I gotta go, I said, then kissed my stepfather on the cheek and made my way toward the door.

Already? he asked, stopping me in my tracks.

Yes, sir. I have to pick up Rosy, I explained.

Oh, well, at least take a to-go plate, my mother said, handing me a Styrofoam plate and my lunch box, as if she had been expecting I'd have to leave.

How do you always know? my stepfather asked. He was the only one in the family that wasn't telepathic. He also had no idea that the women in his life were, because for some reason, our mother had made Nikita and me promise not to tell him, out of some fear that he would turn us in to the government or something. I still don't understand.

It's a gift, she said, kissing me goodbye before I walked out the front door and toward my 2019 red Infiniti. There were so many things bothering me that I didn't even see Nikita run toward my car.

No, I said, reading her mind. She wanted me to pick her up from school, but I already had plans.

But…, she started as I got in the car and closed the door behind me.

Next time, I said as I started up my car and pulled out of the garage, leaving her standing there, disappointed. I figured I'd make it up to her later; I had too much stuff on my mind to forget that I'd have to pick up an eleven-year-old. First was Jamil, who I believed wholeheartedly existed, then there was Jason, who I wanted to push down a flight of stairs and allow the rats to fest on his dying flesh.

Aria, my friend Rosy said, startling me. Rosy had been my best friend ever since I moved to that town. Sassy, beautiful, with short sandy brown hair, and she was one of the few Latinas at Harrison High. Like me, she was a cheerleader, and both of us were cocaptains of our undefeated squad.

Sorry, my mind was somewhere else, I admitted.

Of course, Jason is an asshole, she said as she got into the passenger side.

Speak of the devil, I said, noticing my cell phone was ringing. Rosy answered it before I could hang up.

She doesn't want to talk to you, Rosy said, putting him on speaker.

Rosy, this has nothing to do with you. Put my girl on the phone, he ordered.

Ebony is not in the car. Maybe you should call her, Rosy retorted.

Stop playing. You know I don't give a fuck about that girl. She was just something to do. I only love Aria, he said, and I hung up the phone.

Something to do? I said in disbelief, while fighting back angry tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks. You know what? I don't feel like going to school today because if I see Jason, I'm gon' kill him, I said, suddenly feeling like I was on fire while the air around me grew colder. Sure, a stupid girl would smile if they heard the guy they loved tell them that the girl they were screwing behind their back meant nothing to them, but I was not one of those girls. It didn't matter what he said. I refused to believe it.

Calm down, He's not worth it, and we have practice after school, Rosy reminded me.

Yeah, and that bitch is going to be there, and if she says anything to me, I'm beating her ass, I said, meaning every word.

Okay, no cheerleading practice for you, Rosy said as she turned off the AC.

No, I'm good. Just keep her away from me, I warned.

I got you, Rosy said as we pulled up to the school. It was already packed with students, some standing in the parking lot, talking, others heading straight to the tall brown building with a sign on top of it that read, Harrison High School. My eyes fell on the car a few feet in front of us and the person in the driver's seat. I couldn't see his face due to his black hood, but the way his hands were planted on his steering wheel told me that he also didn't want to be there. And there was something else about him, something that made it hard to look away. Then he emerged a few seconds later, giving me a better glance at him. He was tall, athletically built, with beautiful caramel skin, but I still couldn't see his face, just his hands and his back, which looked so warm and inviting from my view. And in that moment, I found myself fantasizing about laying my head on that back while my arms were wrapped around his body, which was weird and unexpected, considering how I was still upset about Jason.

Aria, are you listening? Rosy asked, drawing me back to the conversation.

Huh? I asked as the boy disappeared into the building and out of my view.

What were you looking at? Rosy asked, scanning the crowd in the direction that the boy went.

Nothing, just thinking. Sorry, I said, unsure why I lied to my best friend. It wasn't like I did anything wrong.

Right, because I believe that. Let's go, before we run into Meathead or his crew, Rosy ordered. Meathead was her nickname for Jason because he was a workout fanatic and could be kind of slow at times. At first, I thought it was mean, and would get angry at Rosy for insulting him, but now I thought he truly was a meathead.

Hey, Aria. Hey, Rosy. I am so sorry to hear about you and Jason, Crystal Harrison, one of my friends and a member of the cheerleading squad, said as Rosy and I got out of the car, reminding me again of the impending argument between me, the cheater, and the traitor. She was blond, short, quirky, and always ready to party. If you wanted to know when the next college party was, all you had to do was ask her. She also had a twin brother, named Christian, who, despite his good looks, was either picked on or ignored by everyone, including his twin sister, because he was so weird. He was one of those people who believed not only in aliens but also that he was one of them and would soon be returning to his home planet. When I was younger, I attempted to be nice to him, then he started bowing and apologizing, so I stopped trying.

I hope you two make up. You are an inspiration to all of us, Jessica Woods, who was another of my friends, said. She was tall, skinny, with beautiful chocolate skin, and was a bit of a ditz. So when she said that she hoped Jason and I would get back together, I knew she was serious; however, there was no way in hell I was taking that asshole back—I'd have to be crazy.

This is going to be a crazy senior year, I said to Rosy. She only laughed, then looped our arms together, pulling me toward the school, with our entourage behind us.

Evan

Of all the schools in the United States, my parents had to send me to Harrison High. They could have sent me anywhere else; hell, I would have taken another country, anything but Harrison High—a place I swore I'd never go to, in a town that held nothing but bad memories. Yet there I was, sitting in the driver's seat of my black Ford Fusion, staring at the prison I had tried to escape from.

My first thought was to drive as far away from that place as humanly possible and never look back—only I couldn't. For one, my father was the governor and he'd have the police drag me back before I'd cross the town line, and second, my mother was the principal and had eyes everywhere. I could even feel them on me as I sat in the car, waiting for me to pull off so they could swarm around me like some sharks and deliver me to my mother so I could live out my sentence.

Sighing, I let go of the steering wheel and turned off the ignition, but I didn't take a single step to get out the car. Instead, I just sat there, trying to figure out a way to get out of going to the school that wouldn't result in me getting in trouble or grounded until graduation—that is, if I made it to graduation and not the jailhouse. After serval more seconds and no ideas worth trying came to mind, I said Fuck it, then frustratingly grabbed my book bag and got out the car.

As I closed the door, I noticed the sign: Harrison High, Education Is the Key to Success. Ridiculous, I said under my breath as I made my way through the traffic of my peers. My destination was my new locker. My mother had given me my schedule and combination the night before, after our tenth argument about me coming back.

Well, Evan, if you had never punched your teacher, we wouldn't be having this conversation, she had said.

I tried to explain that it wasn't my fault, because my teacher Mr. Kirkson started it; however, after I had gotten kicked out of six other boarding schools prior to this one—all not my fault, by the way—she didn't want to hear it.

Evan? I heard a familiar voice say. Evan Jackson? the voice repeated.

A smile crossed my lips as I turned to see my best friend, Ryan Jefferies, standing in front of me. He had stretched out since I'd last seen him in person, when we were twelve. His freckles had spread throughout his face, and his red hair, which he once called a mop because of its length, was now short and spiky, but he was still as skinny as he was when we were kids. We had been best friends as far back as I could remember, and though I'd been going to school far away from Harrison since I was six and stopped coming home when I was twelve, we kept in touch. Seeing him made me feel a little better about being there.

What's up, man? You've gotten taller, I said, giving him five, then bringing it in for a hug before slapping his back and breaking away.

And you look like a fugitive. What's up with the black hood? he teased.

I sighed. I feel like a fugitive, I said as I looked around at the other students. The one thing I hated most about myself was my ability to read minds. It was something I developed as a kid, and although I had gotten better at controlling it, some of the things I heard, I wished I hadn't. So the moment I entered that building and people realized it was me, all I heard were whispers about why I had returned. Some said I had burned down a school, while others said I killed somebody. Then there were the inner thoughts of my peers hoping I'd leave soon so their peace wouldn't be disrupted. I wanted to say that being there disrupted my peace and the last thing I wanted was to be noticed, especially by the enemies I knew still lurked the halls, but I just ignored them and continued my conversation with Ryan.

I see, Ryan said, noticing the stares and unsettling whispers of the other students. Well, I can't help you with that, but if I were you, I'd take that hood off before your mother comes out of her office, he warned.

I waved my hand, as if to dismiss his warning, Naw, she's too pissed at me to care, I assured him, then looked down at the paper I was holding to double-check my locker number.

Oh, because you beat up your teacher, he thought.

I smiled, and we both laughed. Ryan was the only person outside my family that knew about my ability to read minds. It wasn't something I tried to tell him; in fact, I had been ordered by my parents to keep it a secret. However, when I was twelve, I almost died, and it was because of that incident that Ryan learned about me. Thankfully, he never told a soul, so I didn't end up as a science experiment.

Show me to my locker, I ordered playfully, handing him the piece of paper with my locker number on it.

Ryan took it, then bowed, saying, Of course, Your Majesty, like he had done since we were kids.

I laughed, then followed him to locker number 526, causing the sea of our classmates to part as if they were the Red Sea and I were Moses.

This is going to be a fun year, Ryan teased as we made our way through the crowd. All the teasing stopped the moment we reached my locker. No way! Ryan said, sounding both impressed and scared, as if we had just fallen into some deadly trap and it was up to him to save us.

What? I asked, curious.

Your locker is next to Arianna Miller's? Ryan said, as if I was supposed to know who that was.

I stared at him blankly, waiting for an explanation, while the rest of the student body went about their daily routine of pretending not to notice me.

Right, you left when you were six, so you wouldn't know her. Well, let's just say it would be a good idea for you to ask your mother for a new locker. The one by me is free, he said, sounding a lot more serious and looking like he'd just heard his lizard died.

Why would I do that? I asked, not really caring, then took the paper back so I could open my locker. I then stuck the paper in my pocket, then proceeded to put my book bag inside my locker. I'd had my share of popular girls, and they were all the same, mean and needy, with insecure boyfriends who wanted to kill you if their girl looked at you. That was another reason I got kicked out of school.

Surprisingly, Ryan shook his head no. The complete opposite. Smart, beautiful, kind, beautiful, sassy, and did I say beautiful? he said, looking starry-eyed at me and drooling like his pet beagle used to when it saw a steak.

I shook my head and chuckled. Yes, you did, three times, I assured him.

Oh, but yeah, her boyfriend's the real problem, he said.

Doesn't seem like a problem to me, I assured him as I turned my attention back to my book bag inside the locker. My goal that year was to fly so low under the radar that no one noticed me; however, considering where I was, I knew that was going to be difficult. I was surprised I hadn't seen any of my true enemies yet, mainly Jason Richardson. Just thinking about him made me want to punch something, and I knew he wouldn't leave me alone even if I asked.

Trust me, the sooner you switch lockers, the better things will be for you, he warned.

I just rolled my eyes and continued searching for a notebook and pencil in my book bag. Why should I care about someone I don't know and his insecurities? I thought.

Suddenly, I felt Ryan tap my shoulder. What? I asked, more to my locker than him.

There she is, Ryan said, sounding like he was in some kind of trance. His mouth was curled up into a smile, and his eye were so droopy he looked like he had just woken up from a pleasant dream.

Curious, I turned away from Ryan and looked in the direction he was staring at. I felt my bottom jaw drop as my eyes fell on a beautiful, light-skinned girl with a long curly ponytail and the most beautiful purple eyes I had ever seen. I didn't even know eyes could be purple without contacts, but hers were, warm, beautiful, and inviting. I could see why Ryan was drooling, because she was wearing some skinny jeans that did wonders for her butt, and her shirt hung off the shoulders, calling attention to her breast. But my eyes stayed focused on hers. There was something familiar about those glistening purple eyes, and the longer I stared, the more drawn to her I became. Wow, I heard myself say.

You said it, but she's off-limits, and being near her is bad for your health, Ryan explained.

Why? I asked, just as Arianna's and my eyes met. She had been in a deep conversation with two other girls, but the moment she looked at me, she smiled. Suddenly, I found myself in a colorful garden full of rainbow-colored flowers and a white gazebo that had a swing attached to it. The air was cool and smelled like chocolate and lavender, instantly filling my lungs with a sense of home. Without thinking, I kneeled and started