Chapter 1
Logan. First grade.
“Be a good girl, Jane.”
“You look so beautiful in that brand new dress, Sophie. Mommy loves you.”
“You’re gonna have a great time in school, Everest, got it, buster? Don’t let anyone bring you down.”
“Alright, behave now, Damien, okay? Or I’ll tell your dad, and he’ll whup your ass.”
“Not as hard as I’ll whup his.”
I’d been starting to feel kind of sorry for myself for not having a mom or a dad to see me off on my first day of school. But the kid who just spoke makes me forget all about my self-pity.
He’s got black hair and strikingly pale skin. He looks like a ghost, or a vampire or something, until his gaze crosses mine, and his mouth splits into a grin.
He’s not a vampire. He’s a little devil.
Downright mischievous. Maybe even evil.
He’s exactly the kind of friend I’ve always wanted to have. I sidle up to him, returning his smile.
“Hi. I’m Logan.”
“I know.”
“Huh?”
“Your nametag,” he shrugs, gesturing to the sticker on my chest I’d forgotten all about. Then under his breath, he adds, “Idiot.”
I’ve been called an idiot plenty of times in my life. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve been called idiot more often than Logan by all the foster parents I’ve had over the years.
But no one’s ever said it as affectionately as this devilish kid. Damien.
“Are you really going to whup your dad’s ass?” I whisper in his ear.
“I’ll whup yours if you don’t shut up,” he answers, but again, his warm voice belies his threat.
“Oh, yeah? I dare you to.”
He studies me for a moment. Then at last, he says, “Fine.”
“Hmm?”
“I’ll allow you to be my friend.”
His grandiose way of speaking those words makes me assume he’s joking, and I let out a chuckle. But one look at his face, and I realize it’s the first serious thing he’s said.
Somewhat unsettled, I listen as the teacher directs us to our seats. But my momentary confusion dissolves when I find out we’ve been placed next to each other.
First grade is suddenly looking a lot less hopeless.
In fact, it feels like the first lucky thing to ever have happened to me. To be seated next to my new friend! A surge of happiness courses through me, and I sit up straight, ready to face anything that first grade might bring.
The first thing it brings is a timid knock on the door. Then a red curly head pops in and two blue-green eyes look hesitantly around the room.
“You must be Lia Cabello,” smiles the teacher. “Come on in. Let’s try to be on time tomorrow, okay?”
The new girl enters all the way, then waits as the teacher looks around for a free spot.
She wears a bored look as her eyes flit around, studying each student with a snobby little air. But her face, with its pattern of red splotches, tells me she’s not feeling half as confident as she’d like everyone to believe.
Then her eyes meet mine, and something very strange happens to me.
I suddenly feel like crying.
It’s all I can do to stay seated. I want to jump up and hurry over to her, and crush her in my arms, and ask her to stay.
I have no idea what’s wrong with me. I’ve never wanted anyone to stay before. Which is good, because no one ever has.
I don’t think I’ve ever lasted more than a year with a foster family.
But this girl… she’s not like my new friend Damien.
She’s not family either. Not the real, absent kind, or the everchanging fake kind.
No. She’s something altogether different.
More like… a book, or a bicycle. A belonging.
This girl… Lia… is mine.