Ugly Girl: Aston Creek High (Book 1)

by Sheridan Anne

  He lets out a deep breath, watching me as the early morning sun shines in his green eyes. “Okay,” he says. “Mom and dad’s place is this way, but I’ve got to warn you, it’s nothing like you remember.”

  He starts pulling me away and I look up at him, feeling refreshed about our new future. “You know, you never did tell me how you figured out our old address,” I ask, recalling how he’d come home one day telling me he’d visited Haven Falls and stolen the knife from our old home. “I could hardly remember the suburb let alone mom and dad’s first names. How’d you know about this?”

  “It’s called Google, Sky,” he says with a soft chuckle, throwing his arm over my shoulder. “Once Anton’s case was closed, the details were available to the public. You just had to know where to look.”

  “Are you kidding me? How come you never told me this?”

  “What I read wasn’t exactly something I wanted you to relive. It’s not nice, Skylah. It was very descriptive, but that’s beside the point. It had mom and dad’s address and the second I found out, I had to come.”

  “You know I hate you for not bringing me.”

  “I didn’t know what I was going to find when I got here. What if the house was never cleaned up and put back together after…that night.”

  “It’s my family too, Blake. I could have handled it.”

  “I know, but it’s my job to protect you from stuff like that.”

  “No, it’s not. That’s my job.”

  He looks down at me with a smirk. “Their names were Rochelle and Jacob Daniels.” My eyes go wide as I look up at my brother. “I googled them, you know once I found out their names. I found copies of their birth certificates and marriage certificate.”

  “What? And?”

  “And everything. Mom was born in Aston Creek and at some point moved here to Haven Falls, maybe with dad, I don’t know but they were married here. My math might have been off but I think mom was 22 and dad 24 when they married.”

  “What about dad? Where was he born?”

  “Here in Haven Falls.”

  “Are you shitting me?” I ask, stepping back so I can get a good punch to his upper arm, knowing the exact right spot which would give him a dead arm. “You’ve known this all along and never told me?”

  Guilt has his face scrunching and glancing away. “I’m sorry, it’s just…I knew you were having a hard time over the past few years and I thought hearing those things would put you into some downward spiral. At the time I found out, you were having those bad dreams and would scream every night. I couldn’t make things harder for you.”

  I let out a heavy sigh and step back into his side, still so angry with him but understanding why he did it. “You owe me.”

  “I know,” he tells me. “Anything you want.”

  “Do you still have the certificates?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I never printed them out. I couldn’t risk Maria or Lucien finding them. You know how often they’d search our rooms.”

  I scoff in agreement. “Mine more than yours.”

  “If I found them once, I’m sure I could find them again,” he says, pulling out his phone and realizing its battery is dead. Though, I don’t think it matters seeing as though we ditched our sim cards. He sighs. “Let’s ask someone if there’s a public library around here and then we can start searching. Who knows, maybe you’re right about having extended family. I guess we just have to look in the right places.”

  “I’m sure of it,” I promise him. “We’ve got this.”

  “Right. So, mom and dad’s place, library, then the police station?” he confirms. I nod and he looks down at me. “Then what?”

  “Then we take on the world.”

  Chapter 15

  “Are you going to be alright?” Shay asks as she looks me over on Tuesday morning, purposefully lingering on the deep scratch below my collar bone as we sit outside the school.

  “I’ll be fine,” I groan, grabbing my bag and making a mental note not to get into any brawls today.

  “You know, you don’t always have to be so tough all the time. You’re only human. It’s okay to allow yourself some vulnerability.”

  Blake scoffs in the backseat as he reaches for his bag, knowing me better than I know myself. “Trust me,” I tell her. “Vulnerability and I don’t mix well. Besides, do you know how much fun it is being this tough girl? So much better than being the one who gets walked on.”

  She lets out a sigh, clearly frustrated that I’ve missed her point, though I didn’t, she just doesn’t need to know that. Shay reaches out and pushes a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Try and have a better day today, and if you don’t, then you can happily get by knowing how much you look like your mother when she was in high school.”

  My eyes shoot out of my head. “Really? I do?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she says with a big smile. “She’d even wear her hair the same, and wear those ridiculous little cropped shirts. You know, they were super fashionable back then too? It’s funny how these things come and go.”

  Blake pushes his way out of the car with a groan but waits as I hover halfway out. “You….you wouldn’t have any photos of my parents when they were younger, would you?”

  “Ummm,” she says thoughtfully. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I know I have some baby pictures of your mom but I’m not too sure about her teen years. I’ll have to double-check. I do have some of the four of you as a family after Blake was born.”

  I give her a tight smile, I’ve seen the one she’s talking about but I was hoping for more. I have a craving that’s been building inside of me, a need to get to know my parents as I never got the chance to do it when I was a kid. I mean, sure, I knew the woman who would get me out of bed in the morning, make my breakfast and take me to daycare, but knowing someone as an adult is so much different. There’s a whole side of my parents that I never got to know and I’m desperate for it.

  “Alright, well I guess I’ll see you this afternoon,” I tell Shay, making my move to get out.

  I close the door behind me when she yells out the open window. “Oh, wait, Skylah,” I dip my head down to the window and she beams back at me. “How could I be so stupid? I forgot all about the old school yearbooks. No offense, but your mom was a bit of a nerd and was in the yearbook for all sorts of things every year. Check the library, they should still have some old copies.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah,” she laughs. “Now, quit holding me up. I’m going to be late for work.”

  I step back from her car and let Blake pull me away. I start heading straight for the library and he pulls back on my arm. “Where are you going in such a rush?”

  “Ummm…you heard her, right? There have been photographs of our mother inside this school all along. All we have to do is search for it.”

  “Yeah,” he laughs. “I heard her, but you know you don’t have to go searching right this second? We have the whole lunch break to look through old books.” A grin rips across his face. “I’ll even come and help you as rumor has it that you’ve got no more friends.”

  “Shut up, I’ve got plenty of friends, they just don’t know it yet.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “And you’re an idiot if you think I’m about to pass up seeing photographs of our mom for being shoulder charged in the hallway by bitchy cheerleaders and eye-fucked by Damian.”

  “Is he giving you trouble?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle, little brother.”

  Blake lets out a heavy groan before checking the time on his phone. “Fine, I’ll come with you but be warned, I’m only staying for ten minutes and then I’m out.”

  I grin up at him. “Deal.”

  We walk toward the library and for once, I’m actually enjoying being at school. The idea of seeing mom’s old photographs and getting a glimpse into her life thrills me. I swear, this must have been the only positive thing that has happened to me since being here.

  My excit
ement overtakes me and I realize very quickly that I’m going to have to reel it in, in order not to make an ass of myself. I need a distraction….hmm. I look up at Blake and grin. Perfect. “Tell me about basketball. How’s that going? Have you proved yourself yet or are the guys still giving you a hard time? I know Slade was pretty pissed off about the whole knife thing.”

  He shakes his head. “You don’t need to worry about that shit.”

  “Seriously? I’m trying here. Give me something to go by.”

  His eyes become distant and miserable as he attempts to give me an encouraging smile. “Really. It’s all fine.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard so much bullshit. What’s going on, Blake? Is it Slade and Damian because I can handle them. Just say the word and they won’t be a problem.”

  “Slade and Damian aren’t my issue. They’re dicks but they focus on torturing you, not me. It’s…it’s nothing.”

  “Fuck, Blake,” I demand, stopping in the hallway and pulling him up. I look up at him as anger begins to swirl within. I hate it when something’s bothering him and I hate it, even more, when he hides it from me. “Out with it, right fucking now.”

  He lets out a frustrated groan and looks up over my shoulder in thought while considering his options. His gaze finally falls back to mine. “Fine, but don’t be mad, okay?”

  “Don’t be mad?” I bark out in amusement. “You’re talking to the wrong person here.”

  “Don’t I know it,” he grumbles under his breath. I ignore his quip and wait ever so impatiently for him to pull it together and spill whatever beans he’s holding onto. “I miss home, okay.”

  My eyes bug out of my head. “WHAT Are you shitting me? How could you miss that?”

  “Just…no. It’s not that. I don’t miss them, but I miss my lifestyle, my friends, my team. I had everything there. Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful to Shay and Ben for taking us in, but it’s not the same. Back home…I had the world at my feet, my future was practically set in stone, but here, I have no idea. It’s like starting from scratch without knowing if anything I do is going to get me anywhere.”

  “Welcome to a life without privilege,” I tell him, slightly annoyed. “Let me put this into perspective for you. The girls and your friends, they were more interested in what you could do for them than being your friend. You know that just as well as I do.”

  “I know it’s just…”

  “The NBA.” Guilt pours into his expression and I let out a sigh. “Can’t you just call the scouts who were coming out to see you before?”

  “And tell them what? ‘Hey, this is Blake Daniels, I used to be that Valentine kid. I’m not actually who I said I was. I’m the one who left my team high and dry, but pretty please, still come and see me.’”

  “Okay, you’re just being dramatic.”

  “Am I? How can I ever be sure those scouts were actually there to see me or if Lucien was lining their pockets?”

  “Good point,” I sigh. “I never considered that.”

  “I have to start over with this. I can’t risk calling those scouts and telling them who I am because it could lead Lucien back to us, and I know how unhappy you were there.”

  Geez, unhappy is an understatement. I look up at him, hating to see him miserable like this. “Just promise me that you won’t do anything drastic. Talk to your coach. I’m sure he can let you know where you stand when it comes to your chances with the scouts.”

  “Yeah,” he groans. “Coach is too concerned with Slade being his star player.”

  “Trust me, he’ll see your worth and besides, Slade is a senior. Soon enough, he’ll be out of here and the spotlight will be back on you,” I reach out and squeeze his arm. “Just don’t give up on this yet, okay? We just have to stick with it and we’ll be alright.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I keep telling myself.”

  I give him an encouraging smile and pull him along, hoping to God that Blake can find it within himself to appreciate and thrive in this new lifestyle.

  We walk into the library and I instantly find the librarian who looks shocked to see students in here before the bell. “Oh, can I help you with something?” she asks, pleasantly surprised.

  “Yeah,” Blake says. “Where do you keep all the old yearbooks?”

  “Yearbooks?” she questions, taken back from the strange request. “They’re in the back with all the school memorabilia.”

  “Thanks,” I smile as Blake nods and starts for the back of the small library. I take it all in as I walk through. I don’t think I’ve actually stepped foot in here before. It’s much smaller than I’d thought it would be. Back home the library in our house seemed bigger and the one at our old school was bigger than the public one. This here, this is almost comical.

  Considering the size of the library, it actually takes us far longer to find what we’re looking for than it should, but the second we find them, the math starts as we try to work out which years mom would have attended. Again, it takes us way too long. Blake and I are sporty and creative. Math isn’t exactly something either of us excel at.

  We grab a whole heap of yearbooks that we assume are the years mom would have been here and dump them at a table. Blake grabs one while I grab another and we instantly start flicking. “What exactly are we looking for? I don’t really know what she looked like.”

  “I don’t know,” I tell him. “Shay said she kind of looked like me, but maybe scan through all the names. We don’t want to miss anything.”

  He nods and gets busy while I do the same.

  I flick through the pages and it almost seems as though it’s a race between me and Blake. I want to be the first to lay eyes on my teenage mom, but from the intense way Blake is scanning through each page, I’d dare say he wants the same thing.

  “UH-HUH,” he yells, way too loudly for a library. “I found her. Look.”

  The yearbook comes sliding over the table and I catch it as best I can while the book I had open goes flying to the side. I quickly scan the page and find her instantly, no need to search the names and figure out which one she is. It’s crystal clear. Shay was right. “I look just like her.”

  “Yeah,” Blake laughs, clearly forgetting about the time limit he put on this little project. “You do. It’s insane actually. You guys look like you could be twins.”

  “How old do you think she is here?”

  “Judging by the year of the book, I’d say she was maybe fifteen or sixteen.”

  “Wow,” I murmur, feeling a sense of completeness filling my black soul. I didn’t realize just how much I needed this.

  Without thinking, I grab my notebook out of my bag and tear a corner from a page before slipping it in the yearbook as a bookmark. I put the notebook down on the table and start flicking again. “Bookmark all the pages with mom on it and I’ll get copies.”

  Blake doesn’t respond, he just keeps flicking through the pages.

  We get to the last yearbook and it’s well and truly after the bell has rung, but after explaining to the librarian what we’re doing, she was more than happy to let us stay. After going through the rest of the books, we realized that this last one was of her senior year.

  We’ve found at least twelve photographs of mom so far and every time we come across another, excitement courses through me. I shout out and cheer and every time, the librarian looks up and asks if we found another then promptly cheers along with me when I beam up at her.

  At some point, Blake moved around to my side of the table and as we looked through the last yearbook, a sadness sank into my stomach. I’m not ready for this to be over, but at the same time, I’m so over-the-moon, thrilled that we’ve been able to find a piece of our mother.

  We’ve learned so much about her. She was a genius when it came to mathematics, so clearly Blake and I got those genes from our father, she was an artist like me, she was a part of the drama club and played Mulan in the school musical, she was loved, and she so very clearly enjoyed her years here. />
  Seeing how mom excelled here seems to brighten the darkness in Blake’s eyes. Who knows, maybe this is a good thing for him. Maybe it’s exactly what he needs to thrive.

  We flick through the pages and excitement begins to thrill me. Each book has had a section dedicated to the seniors as a way of celebrating their school years and I’m hoping that mom might have a photo in that section.

  We find one of mom on a school trip to the national museum, another where she’s mentoring a younger student, one with Shay, and then finally, we make it to the senior celebration.

  The photos have been placed like some sort of collage and I start scanning, again making it some sort of race between Blake and I. His finger hovers over the page and I look faster. Disappointment floods me as he finds it first but it quickly fades away and is replaced with joy as I take in the beaming smile on my mother’s face.

  She stands between two friends. A boy and a girl. The guy has his arm thrown carelessly over her shoulder while mom has her arm wrapped around the girl’s waist. They look so happy that my heart begins to smile.

  “There’s something familiar about this guy,” Blake murmurs, his brows dropping in confusion.

  I look over the picture. To be honest, I really wasn’t focusing on the guy, only the look on mom’s face. I take him in and as I look at his eyes, my blood runs cold.

  “That’s Lucien,” I say on a gasp.

  “No, it couldn’t be,” Blake says, leaning in as though getting closer to the page will help him see. “Look here,” he adds, pointing at the names below the pictures. “His name is Lucas Valery. He just looks similar is all.”

  “Lucas Valery? Are you kidding me?” I question, my voice rising as I gawk at my brother, willing him to hurry up and catch on. “That’s definitely him. Lucien Valentine. How can you not see it? Those names are way too similar to be a coincidence and you know how I feel about those.”

  My eyes fall back to the page. What the hell was he doing with my mom? How did he know her? But more importantly, how the hell did things fuck up so bad that Blake and I ended up at his home. That couldn’t have been a coincidence. Shit like this just doesn’t happen.