Chapter 1
Chapter One
KARTER
Ten Years Old
“ Y ou’re here because no one likes you,” Harlan Blackwell tells me again with a smug smirk on his handsome, young-boy face. He’s thirteen years old, taller than most everyone here, and definitely twice as mean. He thinks because he’s three years older than me that I won’t stand up for myself, so we usually get into these shouting matches almost every other day.
Harlan likes to tease me and say things that aren’t true, and until I can figure out a way to prove him wrong, all I can do is snap back at him.
“They do, too!” I holler back. My small hands ball into angry fists at my sides, and as hot tears begin to streak down my cheeks, I give him one last warning. “And if you say that again, I’ll pound you into dust!”
“What are you gonna do, dog face? Hit me? I’ll knock your lights out, and you know it,” he replies, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is that what you want? To be a crybaby again today?”
With an angry grunt, I pull back and punch him as hard as I can right in the middle of his chest. Harlan doesn’t budge. Instead, he looks down where I hit him. His light, sleepy blue eyes narrow, then he reaches forward quickly and shoves me onto the ground.
“ Ouch! ” I cry out as I land on my bottom. I’m gonna have a bruise now, I think miserably as he starts to laugh. “Shut up!” I screech at him, though it only makes him laugh even harder. Harlan likes to hurt people, things—anything he can get his hands on, but he seems to like to hurt me most of all.
“Ignore him, Karter,” my best friend Enya Madison says as she pushes through the crowd of kids that formed a circle around us as soon as we started going at each other. She’s almost the same age as Harlan and has absolutely no fear when it comes to making him leave me alone. Enya reaches down and helps me up off the ground, stands me up, then begins to swat the dust off my skirt while she stares directly into Harlan’s eyes. “He’s just mad that someone is getting adopted today and it’s not him.”
“You want one, too?” Harlan barks at her, raising a fist.
Enya rolls her eyes at Harlan and waves him off. She’s one of the few that isn’t afraid of him, and that includes the grown-ups. “Try it. I’ll wipe the floor with you.”
“At least they wouldn’t bring me back like they do with you ,” he mumbles as he runs a hand back through is tousled, chestnut-brown hair. He takes a step closer to Enya, who’s now facing him with her hands on her hips, ready for a real fight, when he leans close and whispers in a low tone, “Stay the fuck away from me.”
Harlan side steps her and gives me one final smirk before he walks away from the crowd of disappointed kids. I know they were waiting for one of us to jump the other, but we always stop just short of actually doing it.
“He’s a jerk,” she assures me as she puts a hand on one of my shoulders and uses her free hand to start moving the crowd out of our way. “Don’t let anything he says bother you, Karter. He’s not worth it.”
I nod as I angrily swat a tear away and let her lead me to the open game room. He’s not worth it, I repeat to myself, inhaling a deep breath. He’s not.
“What do you want to play?” Enya asks as she begins to pick through one of the game boxes. “Checkers? Connect Four? Candy Land?”
I shrug. “I’ll grab us a table.”
She looks up from the box just in time for me to see the dejected look in her eyes. I turn away instantly, walk over to one of the empty tables near the back of the room, and pull out a chair unhappily.
I don’t like fighting with anyone, not even a mean boy like Harlan.
I cross my arms on the table and lean forward, my head tilted toward the window. I love winter the best because it makes everything look so pretty and pure with the snow that falls and covers everything. I sometimes get sad when spring comes because all of the secrets hidden underneath the snow can be easily found out.
I wish I had secrets.
Enya drops a box onto the table, and I gasp, tearing my eyes away from the world outside.
“Connect Four it is,” she says with a grin. I give her a small smile in return and reach for the box, pulling off the lid and putting the pieces together. “You okay, Karter? You’re letting what he said bother you still, aren’t you?”
My lips purse as I shake my head and concentrate on sliding the standing piece into one side, then the other.
“I’ll be yellow,” I announce as I begin to pick the chips out of the box.
“Like always,” she states with a laugh. I make a face at the chips as I continue to collect them, then start making small columns out of them in front of me.
Yellow is my favorite color, so she knew as soon as she picked our game that the choice was out of her hands.
No sooner than I finish my two-row stack do we hear a cheer erupt from the hallway.
“Guess they decided to take her after all,” Enya says curtly. I know it hurts her feelings every time one of the kids here is adopted. She’s been to two foster homes, but so far, they’ve sent her back. I never asked her why ‘cause I figured if she wanted me to know, she’d tell me. And even though she kept a brave face on when Harlan pointed that out to her, I’m almost positive I felt her stiffen when he said it.
“You shouldn’t let what he says bother you either, Enya,” I say quietly as I grab the dice and hand her one. “Harlan just likes to pick on me and anyone that’s brave enough to try and stop him when he does.”
She smirks as she takes one of the dice out of my hand, dramatically whips long, brown hair over her shoulder, then blows into the palm of her hand before she shakes it and rolls. I look at her for a little while before I roll mine. I like looking at Enya; her eyes are big and so full of life. They’re the color of the clearest ocean that take on a hint of silver depending on how the sun hits them. Her naturally tanned skin sets them off perfectly. She’s the second tallest person here, which I think makes it easier for her to push back at Harlan. Sometimes, I think that Enya looks exactly what a fairytale princess would look like if they were real.
“Roll, Karter,” she urges with a friendly laugh.
I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and begin to shake my fist, hoping that I get a better number than Enya before I let the dice roll and let it land where it may.
Kind of how life tends to be.