Chasing Phoenix (Birds of Boston #1)

Chapter 1

Five Years Ago

You know that moment in the movies where someone walks through a door and time slows down? The light comes from behind the most breathtaking creature and it permanently and irrevocably changes your world.

Yeah.

Same.

My breathtaking, world-shattering, life-altering creature? This girl, right here.

She walks through our classroom door. The warm summer breeze is behind her, carrying her cinnamon scent. It fills the room. Does she know she smells so good? Is it creepy that I want to shove my face into her neck and inhale her, stain my lungs with her?

Probably.

Do I care?

Nope.

Before this moment, I had never seen someone so beautiful. So captivating. It’s like my world was void of color. The same pale, dull people. The same expectations. The same little town wanting and hating the same things.

But then she poured color into this room, this town, my heart, and it’s as if I have woken from a dream—no, a nightmare.

Her rich caramel skin and brown rebellious curls are like a breath of fresh air. She is different. Beyond compare.

Her style is edgy, like she doesn’t give a rat’s butt what anyone thinks of her. Her baggy jeans have rips. She is wearing an oversized black Guns N' Roses T-shirt. They are a welcome change from the pleated skirts and frilly sweaters of the princesses I am used to.

Obsession had already began to swell inside me, but then she looks up from watching her feet and her eyes collide with mine and I'm a goner.

Want to know my new favorite color?

Blue.

Blue.

Blue.

But not just any blue. Blue like a storm on the horizon, with clouds of gray and sparks of lightning.

She is across the room from me, but her eyes strike me like an arrow through my heart.

Thank you, Cupid.

She gives me a shy smile.

I give one back.

Mrs. Houser introduces her as Leora Laney. I know it seems crazy to find the love of your life in seventh grade. Go ahead and institutionalize me, because that’s what happened.

“Where is this girl even from?” Natasha’s voice pulls me from my hypnosis.

Heaven.

Hell.

Disneyland.

Who knows, and who cares.

She is perfect.

“I don’t know.”

“She’s… different.” Nat’s eyes look her up and down, assessing her worthiness, and her lip pulls up in a sneer.

Natasha’s definition of different and my definition are on opposite sides of the spectrum. She says it with disgust, judgment, and envy.

I say it with awe, admiration, and, well, a little envy too.

I wish I were brave enough to be different. To do what I wanted. To be who I wanted. To defy expectations and just be me.

But I’m not.

I can’t take my eyes off her as she sits in the front while Nat and I remain in the back.

My best friend notices that my stare has not left Leora Laney. I have a feeling that my stare will rarely leave her.

And I notice everything about her. Each slight movement, when she brushes her curls from her face, the slight shake of her hands, when she holds her breath as the teacher's eyes roam over the class. Is she hoping to be invisible? Too late, pretty bird. I see you.

Natasha's voice pulls my attention away momentarily. She raises her hand, but speaks before even being called on. “Excuse me, Mrs. Houser. Can you ask the new girl to move? I can’t see the board over that giant mess of curls on her head.”

Then she whispers to her friends. "Seriously, couldn’t she brush them and use some product?” Her friends snicker.

I glare at them. It’s not funny bringing people down. I don’t like it. They act as if they know anything about this beauty. They wouldn’t know how to take care of wild, beautiful curls like hers.

Nat has been my best friend since we were three. Our parents are close, so we are close. But as we grow, Nat changes. More vicious. More judgmental.

But when it’s just us? She is still my Nat.

She is not my Nat right now.

Leora scrunches down, trying to hide within herself. She gathers her things and moves all the way to the left of the row, still in the front, still within my sight.

“Nat, be nice.” I whisper to my not-so-nice friend.

She scoffs and turns back to her girlfriends, continuing her whispers and giggles. I roll my eyes and scoff. Teenage girls suck. Well, except Leora. I bet she is nice.

Do I hear anything that Mrs. Houser says today?

Nope.

Do I care?

Also nope.

Class drags on, seeming like it may never end. But that's okay, because I get to look at my pretty bird. Every once in a while, she peeks over her shoulder and when she catches me staring, she quickly hides those beautiful eyes again. I need a closer look. I need to hear her voice.

Once class dismisses, I see her walking toward Mill’s Coffee House. I go to catch up to her. But my mother catches my shoulder, halting my chase.

“Where are you going?”

“I wanted to talk to the new girl. You know, introduce myself.”

“Absolutely not. We don’t associate with people like that.” Her manicured hand pinches my shoulder. A warning to listen and mind my manners.

What does she mean, people like that?

“Like what?”

My mother leans down so she is eye level with me, her pearls dangling from her slim neck.

“Everett, there are people in this world who deserve our attention, and there are those who live beneath it. We must not waste our time giving our attention to those who will never meet our expectations. Do you understand?”

No.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say but don’t mean. I don’t understand at all.

Why do you give me your attention, Mother? I will never meet your expectations. It’s what I want to say, but I don’t. Remember, I’m not brave.

“Good. Now come. We have dinner with the Baldwins tonight. And we need to make plans for you and Natasha.”

“What plans for Nat and me?” I begin to follow my mother, my feet kicking up tiny rocks.

“Remember, Everett, you have a duty to this family. Come now. Stop dragging your feet. It’s improper.”

Then Nat comes up, links her arm through mine, and pulls me to our car.

I glance back at Leora.

She has halted her steps and is looking at me.

Why is she looking at me?

Is she as intrigued by me as I am her? God, I hope so.

I don’t want to get in the car with them. I want to walk with her. I want to talk to her. I want to be with her, in her light.

Take me from this life, Leora Laney.

Take me.

Please.

I’ll run away with you.