by Laura Gibson
Kelly Hill
by Laura Gibson
Kelly Hill
Copyright©2014 Laura Gibson
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction, names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Image by Laura Wehde
Cover Model Lindsay Washburn
Proofread by E&F Indie Services
For Olaf and Kitty
(you know why)
Chapter One
Phillips Academy
Charleston, West Virginia
August 6th 2008
Rachel
Rachel Gunn smoothed the lavender quilted duvet on her twin sized bed and sighed; moving in always left the oddest sensation in her chest, but once everything was unpacked and in their proper places she couldn’t help thinking this was the way things were supposed to be.
She could hear the noises of other early students moving in the hallway, saying goodbye to their parents for the semester. She wondered what it would be like to have someone to see her off. Fussing over her, making sure that she knew just where everything was before they left, promising phone calls and visits in the future months.
However, this being Rachel’s fourth year at Phillips Academy, her father had decided to stay in California, assuming that she would be able to take care of herself. Of course, Peter Gunn was never wrong about anything and Rachel was having a fine time making sure that she was able to get settled in completely. Rachel, in the usual Gunn fashion as it were, had even managed to acquire her class schedule early before anyone else had the time to clog up the admissions office with their delayed planning.
She moved over the empty box that sat in the middle of the floor and looked around the space she would call home for the next several months, perfectly content to be on her own when so many others her age were still hanging onto their parents.
Rachel felt like she didn’t need her parents, not really. Not in so many words at least. They had raised her well enough that when it was time for her to succeed on her own she was able to. And that was really all she could ask for, right? It wasn’t like she was her brother, Ethan, ever the disappointment in her father’s eyes, who managed to drop out of high school that very same year.
Of course, that had created quite the upset in the Gunn household. Peter had demanded that his son reach for higher education and their mother, Helen, persisted that it didn’t matter as long as Ethan was happy.
The differing opinions only aided Rachel in deciding what side she wanted to be on, although it did not influence her mindset. She had already made her choice years ago when the divorce was finalized and she had to choose which parent to live with. The rest of it was just formalities as far as Rachel was concerned.
The divorce had been very civil, or so she had been told. Both warring parties had opted to keep the kids out of the dispute until it was too late to do anything about it. Until Helen had bought a house in Connecticut to be closer to her family and Peter was looking to downsize his own nest.
Ethan and Rachel were given the choice of which they would rather live with. Either flighty, free spirited mom or grounded in reality dad.
Ethan went with the former where Rachel found comfort and stability in the latter. Her parents held a very high regard for personal freedom and seemed happy with the arrangement. She was eight when she made the decision and no one had held it against her. Or, never was it said outright, to her face exactly.
Christmas was the only thing that seemed like a problem, but they solved that issue quickly by supplying two Christmases. Neither of them fell on the actual date itself, a convenience that allowed Rachel more time to do what she actually enjoyed.
For Rachel, happiness was a relative term. Everything could be seen from a different perspective and nothing was ever really concrete. The only things she could be sure of in her life were what she could gain from being at Phillips. So she did the only natural thing she could think of when it came to the fighting amongst her family members, she shut it out. They would be pleased when she graduated with honors from Phillips, and they would be pleased when she managed to land a demanding, but respectful career. Everything else just didn’t matter and that was the way she saw it.
So when, Rachel heard the other students, her classmates, outside sniffling or bickering or doing whatever it was that normal teenagers did, she shut her door and pretended like it wasn’t happening. It didn’t matter and that was that. If it didn’t matter, she wouldn’t focus on it.
The only thing that was worth her time right then, at that very second was just what she could do to fill her extra time. She had unpacked earlier than she expected and her roommate wasn’t scheduled to arrive for another week, leaving Rachel completely on her own.
Classes wouldn’t be starting until the thirteenth and so Rachel could do virtually whatever she wanted. But what she really wanted to do was get started.
People always wasted their time with the breaks and didn’t take full advantage of everything that was possible for them, a thing that Rachel had learned from her father to frown upon. Wasting time was possibly one of the more terrible things a person could do in their lives. Time was precious and fleeting and you could never get it back. The sluggish would fail and the quick would survive.
Rachel sat down on her bed and looked out the open window, feeling the warm august breeze touch her blond hair. She was ready for this year to begin. She had prepared and planned and done everything just so. Rachel knew just where everything was at Phillips was and she knew just exactly what she had to do to succeed.
Rachel heard a man’s voice laugh outside her doorway and say something odd. Something she couldn’t quite piece together. The residual tone stirred in Rachel’s gut and left a coppery taste in her mouth. Something told her that this year wasn’t going to be the same.
Something was going to change.
Jefferson
The August air was warmer than Jefferson’s attire would express but he didn’t mind, he’d much rather look put together than a disheveled mess. A dark mark on Phillips’s gorgeous campus.
His black blazer was unbuttoned, if only to show off his pressed white shirt and sleek tie that matched his black slacks. He had shined his dress shoes just that morning and knew they were almost sparkling as he walked across the green, lush grounds, one hand in his pocket, the other hanging loose.
He was clean shaven that morning, although that summer he had experimented with a more a rugged look, one that didn’t fit him right, it seemed, or at least not the angle that he was going for this year. He had managed to keep his physique at a trim seven percent body fat and was quite pleased with the sharpness of his cheekbones, creating a more severe look than he had been able to accomplish in the past.
Jefferson smoothed his tie and looked down at his watch. It was almost time.
Jefferson Williams was a man of impeccable timing. Whether it be planned or on accident, he always managed to be in just the right place and the right time. This being Jefferson’s last year at Phillips Academy, he knew exactly what he was going to be doing with his time.
His blue eyes scanned the crowded campus, looking for Caleb Bronen and Ryan Prescott, two people he would describe as his friends if pressed. They both had assured the eighteen year old that they would be arriving today and now Jefferson found himself slightly perturbed that they hadn�
��t shown themselves yet.
Of course, he knew that not everyone could measure up to his standards, but would it really be so hard if they tried? Time wasn’t something to waste after all. Time was all anyone had.
Jefferson finally spied the blond head of Caleb bouncing along next to the equally blond Ryan. If Jefferson didn’t know any better he would think they were brothers.
In the eight years that Jefferson had known both Caleb and Ryan he always looked at Caleb as the more gullible out of the three of them. His mouth smiled too much. He laughed too easily. He had an annoying voice that made Jefferson just want to punch him in the throat sometimes.
Jefferson smiled as the two young men approached him and went in for the handshake while Caleb went in for a hug. Out of the corner of his eye, Jefferson saw Ryan smirk and he returned the sentiment with a nod that went unnoticed by Caleb.
Jefferson felt closer to Ryan than he did to Caleb, and he knew that Ryan knew it too, but it was something either party had kept from Caleb in their years together. It was just easier that way. Three was always a better number than two, so they completed their group with Caleb, who always seemed to be down for whatever Jefferson had planned for them. And what a year it would be.
“How was your summer?” Caleb asked, looking around at all the returning classmates mulling about.
“It was decent,” Jefferson said with a sly smile. “Can’t complain too much, how about you?”
Caleb shrugged, “Oh you know, same as ever.”
Jefferson looked at Ryan, “And what about you, Mister Prescott? Anything new and exciting happen to you?”
Ryan laughed, a hollow forced laugh and Jefferson looked at him, wondering what he had to be nervous about. Ryan was rarely ever nervous.
The fact that Jefferson didn’t bother to keep in touch during the summer months had always been a non-issue. Both Caleb and Ryan lead seemingly boring lives and Jefferson had never found any reason to try to keep up, but now there was something in Ryan’s mannerisms that he just didn’t find appealing.
“What is it?” Jefferson pushed, knowing that Ryan would tell him eventually.
“Ryan’s got a house guest,” Caleb answered for the Prescott legacy.
Jefferson felt his eyes narrow as he looked at Ryan now, slightly offended that Caleb would know before him. Didn’t their bond merit something when it came to interesting information? Or was it something that Ryan wanted to keep hidden from him?
“Uh yeah,” Ryan rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at the ground before holding eye contact with Jefferson, “You remember my cousin, right?”
Jefferson felt his back molars grind together in immediate agitation. Of course he remembered Ryan’s cousin. Who could forget him? He had single handedly tried to ruin Jefferson’s life before he had been forcefully removed from it. Like cancer.
“What about him?” Jefferson swallowed his anger and tried to make his face as placid as possible, not giving away the fact that he was feeling nothing less than rage.
“Well, apparently, his parents have fallen on some harder times.” Ryan cleared his throat, stalling “So he’s staying with me while they work things out in Connecticut.”
“So you’re to be punished because other people can’t take care of themselves?” Jefferson raised an eyebrow. “What an entirely selfish thing for them to do.”
“Well, they are family,” Ryan chuckled nervously. “And you know how it goes with family.”
“Mm.” Jefferson grumbled in the back of his throat. “I know the sentiment, but I wouldn’t say that I understand it.”
Ryan’s features relaxed and he clasped a hand on Jefferson’s shoulder, laughing. “Of course you wouldn’t.”
Jefferson rolled his eyes and shrugged off the friendly gesture, “So what has your cousin been up to these days?”
“Kelly? Eh. Who knows?” Ryan turned away from Jefferson and they began walking to the girls’ building at the far end of the campus, “He mostly keeps to himself.”
“How very fortunate for you.” Jefferson tried to smile but couldn’t find it in himself to feel any better about the issue that he was presented with. This was going to put a damper on his year. He could just feel it.
Ryan’s family lived in town, which meant that Kelly could be around here anywhere, lurking.
Jefferson shuddered; he would just have to keep an open eye out for the little bastard.
Agoura Hills, California
June 2nd, 2010
Rachel
Rachel sat in her baby blue 1960 Mercedes-Benz 190 SLR, a white scarf wrapped around her head and throat to shield her porcelain skin from the hot summer sun, her eyes covered with large black rimmed sunglasses. She twisted the gold ring on her index finger around anxiously and tried not to think about what time it was.
Rachel again smoothed her white pleated skirt and checked to make sure that her light pink blouse was in perfect order; wasted movements, spent to quicken the time waiting.
Rachel turned her wrist over and checked the time on her thin, yellow gold watch. Half past two. She wanted to sigh. She felt it press up her throat and get trapped there, hanging in the balance.
They were late.
Rachel seemed to remember being told that most artists ran on their own time, but she couldn’t wrap her head around that concept. Time was not something someone else created. It was a concrete fact; you couldn’t do anything about that.
Rachel felt the sigh stifle and sink down into her gut where it twisted into a familiar knot. Lacking punctuality was a character flaw that Rachel couldn’t or wouldn’t accept.
Rachel, was a woman of impeccable timing, whether it be planned or otherwise. She always arrived at precisely the time she needed to be there and now these hooligans were making everyone late. She caught the sigh in her throat again before she had a chance to expel it and shifted in her seat, waiting. Always waiting.
Rachel Gunn had just turned eighteen, it was the summer before her college experience got underway and she had been charged with the very interesting task of babysitting her brother and his friends.
She finally sighed heavily and tried to think of a way not to be angry with them. It wouldn’t be a very good first impression if she was disgruntled right from the start.
Rachel hadn’t even seen her brother in the past three years, maybe they had gotten the wrong time. Maybe she had remembered the wrong time. Her brain really only wanted to believe the best in people. Even still, Rachel pulled out her smartphone and scrolled through her emails from the past month.
Quickly her thumb ticked up past the unopened emails from different universities, urging her to respond. She opened the little bit of communication she’d had with Ethan and again felt her body try to sigh. She wanted to believe the best, she really did, but that’s not how things turned out.
She was right; it had been two o’clock on the dot.
Rachel’s body tensed up with agitation but she tried to relax or pretend to relax. There was probably a perfectly reasonable explanation. Ethan probably didn’t even think twice to double check the time. It probably hadn’t even been an afterthought. It was Ethan after all.
Rachel stretched out her back and rolled her stiff neck as she repositioned herself in the car. Ethan may still be a Gunn, but he was from the side of “free-spirits and artistic creativity.” He hadn’t grown up with Peter Gunn.
Rachel considered calling her absent brother but just as her fingers began typing in the necessary numbers, a white rusty bus pulled into the parking lot. She could smell the fumes from the exhaust and she wondered if part of the derelict was on fire.
It parked rather haphazardly and sat there for a few moments in silence before the back door swung open wide and a man that Rachel didn’t recognize hopped out. He had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and he adjusted his pants while making sure the white button up shirt he was wearing was still tucked in.
He was wearing black sunglasses and looked into the van like he
was waiting for someone else to tell him what to do. Rachel heard him laugh at something that was said and again she checked her watch. Ten to three now, if this wasn’t them she was going to be extremely perturbed.
Finally, Ethan spilled out of the driver seat. He stretched leisurely and cracked his neck, yawning as he examined his face in the window on the door.
Rachel’s fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel. Really, how long did it take for people to get out of a van? This was getting absurd.
Maybe all the fumes had gotten to them. She raised an eyebrow and again found herself watching the man that first exited the van, looking for any sign of exhaust poisoning.
His hand was on his hip while he looked off into the distance as if he was waiting for something, Rachel felt herself squint. She knew that man. Rachel leaned forward, trying not to look like she was staring. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she felt her fingers grew colder. What was he doing here?
Rachel swallowed and regained her composure. She unlatched the door to her fully restored classic and got of the car. Her long legs unfolded underneath her and she could hear the tiny clicks that her gold heels made on the pavement as she walked over to them, praying that he wouldn’t recognize her.
Ethan noticed her first.
He jogged over with long loping limbs, his face sporting a new, poorly grown beard.
“Hey!” Ethan had the knack of being able to smile with his whole face and now it beamed with excitement. “Didn’t see you there!”
Rachel hugged her brother and decided not to bring up the fact that they were almost an hour late. “How was the drive?”
“Long.” A third man came walking up. He had sun bleached blond hair and perfectly clear blue eyes.
“I’m Logan. You must be the Miss Rachel we’ve all be hearing about.” He had a charming smile and perfect teeth that seemed to be freshly whitened.