Freshman
Year,
91-92
A novel by
Megan B. March
Copyright 2014 Megan B. March,
All rights reserved.
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-1459-1
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to my husband, Bryan, for letting me take the leap to become a published writer. Thanks to my daughter, Nyah, for being a true critic and giving me her unbiased opinion. Thanks to my editor, Toni, for being that much-needed second pair of eyes. Thanks to my friends and family members that supported me in this endeavor and were just as excited as I was to make this journey.
Prologue
“What about Alyna?” My glare was intense, but he only grinned and moved closer. Trying to ignore his movement, I asked, “Where is she tonight since you’re so into her?” Kyle’s mouth spread into what could only be classified as a grinning sneer and it was rather off-putting.
With a quick intake of breath I stepped back, sensing myself getting closer to the corner of the deck where the railing met the house. He continued forward and put his left arm against the house, blocking my only escape route. I glared intensely at him, feeling cornered. His face inched closer to mine. Suddenly, I became aware that there weren’t as many people on the deck anymore.
Just as I was about to tell him to back off, he spoke. “What about her?” he wanted to know. “Right now I’m starting to like you.” His sickeningly sweet breath was soaked with alcohol and it washed completely over my face.
“No, you’re just drunk,” I said, summoning courage and putting my hand to his chest to push him away.
Taking my action to mean something else, he grabbed my arms and pushed me back against the house, crushing his lips onto mine as I struggled against him. Desperately, I pushed at him and tried to pull away, but his hold was strong and his liquored lips eventually found mine. I kept my mouth together as his tongue tried to penetrate through. Not giving up, he moved his lips around mine and kissed my chin, moving to my neck, and then over to my ear.
With my eyes pressed tightly shut, I wished that what he was doing was just a horrible nightmare. My stomach turned and I could feel tears welling up under my eyelids. It was ironic—a few months ago this is all I wanted him to do to me. Now, I just felt nauseous from it.
“Come on, Mia. I know you want me,” he mumbled as he breathed into my ear and leaned harder against me, making it painfully obvious what he wanted by grinding his groin into me. His erection was palpable and scared the shit out of me. Is he really doing this?
My skin crawled as his right hand caressed the left side of my body moved down around my stomach. His cold hand had found its way under my sweater and he moved it up my stomach while he continued to kiss and murmur to me.
“You’ve always wanted me,” he pressed. “Don’t pretend; Jensen isn’t here. What he doesn’t know…” I found my strength then and pushed with all of my might against his chest, successfully pushing him back a step or two. Rage took over and my balled fist caught him in the jaw, effectively pushing him against the deck rail. His contact with the railing caused the remaining snow to fall to the ground, but this time I didn’t stay to watch it fall. Spinning around, I ran inside the house with tears streaming down my face.
My hand throbbed as I stopped in the kitchen to grab the nearest bottle, which happened to be Purple Passion. Lifting it to my mouth, I took a huge swig. My eyes burned, but I didn’t care and took another. Maybe it would dull the pain in my hand and in my heart.
I thought I was happy with the simple things.
You thought I was happy with the simple things.
I didn’t really know what I missed
until I saw others pass your test
and be given more than you gave me.
I wonder, was I not bright enough for you to see?
-Anonymous
1. New Experiences
I tapped my pencil gently on the desk as I sat in my high school English class and looked out the window. We were supposed to be writing of fond memories from our even younger years, and my mind kept taking me back to when I used to camp with my family at Eagle River. Every morning we’d get up and turn on the heat in the camper while my dad started the coffee brewing on a little three-burner stove tucked away in the corner. I remembered the little glass knob on the top of the metal coffee pot with brown liquid percolating up at an uncounted tempo. For breakfast, we’d eat silver dollar pancakes. My dad would always make his best Mrs. Butterworth’s impression when he took the cap off and bellowed, “blalalalalalalalala.”
Aria Stephenson, my best friend, poked me and brought be back from my thoughts just when I was starting to smell the syrup.
“What?” I whispered.
“Are you getting anything, Mia? All I can think of is last year when we came to tour this place.” Her thoughts then shifted gears. “I thought we weren’t supposed to have much work during the first week.” Aria screwed up her face, showing her distaste for English class. The bell then rang and we were spared.
As we walked to lunch, Aria grabbed my hand just as we entered the commons area and said, “Check him out.” Aria pointed a little too obviously to a guy standing near the vending machines.
All I could see of the guy was his back, but his hair appeared dirty blonde, wavy, and shoulder length. I noticed he wore a faded Carhartt jacket and worn-out denim jeans. Pretending he wasn’t my type, I just shrugged.
“Well, I’m going to go say hi.” Aria turned to me, pulling the hair clip out of her light brown hair and fluffing it down. “Do you think I look like I’m in ninth grade? I can tell he’s not.” I smiled and shrugged again.
Aria jogged off to talk with the mystery guy at the vending machines. I knew I probably wouldn’t see her the rest of lunch, so I headed toward the student store to see what kind of food there was to buy. The place was a mob scene, as lines moved slowly and people shouted to fellow students behind the counter what their orders were. At this rate I didn’t think I’d ever be able to eat.
I looked over to see my other best friend, Krissa VanKamp, making her way through the crowd towards me. I exhaled a bit, glad that I wasn’t alone in the sea of never-ending people. She somehow arrived to where I stood and wanted to know where Aria had disappeared to.
“She
