The Fallen Brook High School: Books #1-4

Prologue

Present Day

YOU. Such a simple word. An everyday word. A word that sounds like a letter but isn’t. A letter that begins words like unloved, useless, ugly, unwanted. That is what I hear every day. In my head. In my heart. You are unloved. You are useless. You are ugly. You are unwanted.

The fifteen-minute warning bell sounds, blaring obtrusively through the school halls, alerting everyone that it’s time to get to your next class.

Lockers bang shut, voices get louder, footsteps become hurried.

I scurry and scamper around people, my head lowered, my eyes diverted to the scuffed beige linoleum floor.

I want to be invisible. I want to be unseen.

Please don’t notice me. Please leave me alone.

I know what will happen if I look up. I know what I will see, what I will hear, what I will feel. Ugly. Unwanted. Useless. Unloved.

“Hailey!”

My sister Elizabeth’s voice rings loud from across the hallway next to the classroom door she is standing beside.

My steps quicken. I can’t talk to her right now.

I have to get out of here. I have to go.

One look at my face and she’ll know something is wrong and she’ll stop me.

She’ll want to know. I just can’t tell her right now.

Maybe never. I don’t know what to do. I am broken and nothing can fix me.

I ignore my sister and keep walking. I pass the cafeteria doors, walk past the gymnasium, push open the back doors, and once outside, sprint down the baseball field.

The smell of fresh-cut grass stings my nose.

The bright sunlight causes my eyes to water.

A movement to my right catches my eye. Him.

He’s leaning against his car parked in the senior lot next to the baseball field.

Why is he out here? How did he know I had left the school building?

How did he know I would come out this way?

His cold eyes are focused directly on me.

Watching me. Taunting me. My heartbeat momentarily stops and squeezes tight.

My body shutters to a standstill and locks up.

My legs won’t move even though my mind chants run, run, run.

His eyes smile at me. The corner of his mouth tips up in a smirk.

He crooks his finger at me to come. I have no choice.

My body reacts to his simple command as if I was one of Pavlov’s dogs.

My legs move toward him automatically, even though my mind is screaming at me to stop.

To run away. I just can’t do it. When I get close enough to him, I hear him say, “Good girl.” I used to love his voice.

Now that voice is one from my nightmares.

A voice that is still soft and deep but full of darkness and cruelty.

He opens the car door and I get inside. I know what’s coming. I know what to expect. And I know the words he’ll use when he brings the pain. You are ugly. You are useless. You are unwanted. You are unloved.

I take out my phone and text my sister while walking into the classroom. My teacher, Mr. Carmichael, nods a good morning to me and continues to write on the whiteboard. I know Hailey heard me calling her name.

Me: Hey. Where are you? I saw you walk right by your classroom. I need to talk to you and I’m not taking no for an answer. Why r u skipping?

I place my phone inside my bag and get situated in my seat.

Mr. Carmichael finishes writing equations up on the board and goes back to sit at his desk to wait the final fifteen minutes until the tardy bell rings.

I look to the right of me, then left, and finally behind me and see the empty seats.

Where are they? I know they are on campus because Jayson texted me earlier.

I hear them before I see them and a smile spreads across my face, knowing my morning coffee is about to arrive.

They walk through the doorway, Ryder giving Julien a shoulder bump while Jayson heads my way.

“Finally,” I say as Jayson hands me a tall paper cup with a lid and sits down next to me on my right.

My right hand, stiff and bruised, is covered in gauze wrap making it hard to hold the cup so I switch to my left hand.

Breakfast is our morning ritual this year.

We decided to either meet up for breakfast before school at Ruby’s Diner, or they bring me a coffee and a cinnamon scone if I have to arrive at school early for choir practice and miss our group breakfast.

I look at Jayson. “You remembered two sweeteners, right?” to which he gives me an ‘are you serious’ right now expression on his face as I take a grateful sip of caffeine. I can’t help it if I am OCD about my morning coffee.

“Yes, princess,” he teases, taking out his notebook and placing it on top of his desk.

Julien, his twin, takes the seat behind me, and Ryder sits to my left. They’re discussing whatever they were talking about in the hallway before they came in.

“So, how did she get your number?” I hear Ryder ask Julien.

Jayson leans back so he can see Ryder and shakes his head “no” vigorously.

“She thought it was Jayson’s,” which makes Ryder give an “uh huh.” Jayson’s face turns bright red before he quickly glances at me, then away.

“I’m sorry, what now?” I point my sage green eyes at Julien, debating whether I should be giving evil eyes to Jayson instead.

“Jacinda texted my phone last night thinking she was texting Jayson.”

I reach back and quickly grab Julien’s phone out of his hand before he can put it away. I look for Jacinda’s text, which is hard to do because Julien and Jayson both keep trying to take the phone away from me. Their efforts are useless. I’ve already seen the text

Jayson slinks down in his chair thinking this will make him invisible. He then scoots his desk and chair over, so he's out of arm’s reach from mine. Ryder leans over to my side and places his head next to mine so he can see the message, too.

Unknown: Hey Jason xxx

Attached to the text is a picture of Jacinda Blanchard wearing a tight black tank top, trying to show how flexible she is with some sort of yoga pose while puckering her mouth, looking like she ate a sour lemon.

Does she think that’s attractive? She can't even spell his name correctly.

It's spelled Jayson with a "y." Ryder barks out a laugh and I make a fake gag sound while Jayson just sinks lower and lower in his seat.

I immediately delete the picture and text and block her number from Julien’s phone but figure it’s not safe for me to try and perform a quick lobotomy before class to get that image out of my head.

I toss the phone back at Julien as if holding it any longer will cause my hand to catch some disease and fall off.

Jayson decides to man-up and declares, “I never gave my number to her in the first place, so you can’t be mad at me. I don’t know how she got it. You know I can’t stand her.”

“What about when she climbed you like a tree at the party?” Ryder chimes in.

“Shut up, Ry,” Jayson whisper-shouts at him, trying not to draw Mr. Carmichael’s attention our way.

A guy sitting in front of me turns around with his phone. “It’s all over social media.”

“No, no, no. I don’t want to see any more. I already decided I can’t have a lobotomy, so please do not make me want to gauge my eyes out, too.

“You need to mind your own business, Darrel,” Jayson snarls, and the boy swiftly turns back around in his seat. “And stop trying to stir stuff up,” he warns Ryder.

Jayson looks imploringly at me, knowing this is the first I am hearing about Jacinda body-tackling him at the party. I had to leave early to finish up a paper due for English class, so apparently missed all the action.

“Don’t worry, princess,” Julien pats my back from behind, “Jay literally kick-punted her off of him. And then there was yelling. Lots and lots of yelling. Not from Jacinda,” he adds.

I feel a little hurt that Jayson never said anything to me about it.

Neither did Ryder nor Julien. They weren’t the ones she was climbing all over, but they saw it happen.

They know how I feel about her, and I suspect Jayson didn’t tell me because he thought he was protecting my feelings.

I turn toward Jayson. I can see regret and misery etched across his handsome face.

I cave so easily to him. God, I’m pathetic.

I know Jayson is loyal to me. They all are.

They would never do anything to intentionally hurt me.

Our relationships together are strong, built on a solid foundation that has weathered many storms. Our story, well, let’s just say it’s complicated.

These three boys have been my best friends since elementary school.

I met the twins the summer before first grade when they moved in next door to me, and then Ryder joined our group in third grade.

We live on the same street, so it has been easy keeping up our friendship and closeness over the years since we see each other all the time.

You would think that being besties with three boys would be weird for a girl, but my young, juvenile heart basically fell in love with each of them as soon as they said hello to me.

I was the princess, and they were my princes.

We played together, had camp outs in the backyard together, ran through the woods together.

Our families often went on vacation together too

Every part of my growing up is imprinted with memories of them. As the years went by, however, my feelings for each of them changed and morphed into something bigger. Something monumental. I’m still struggling with the choices I made

Like I said, it’s complicated.