Obscured (The Obscured Series Book 1)

by C. M. Boers

  Table of Contents

  Start

  Cover

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  About The Author

  Obscured

  C.M. BOERS

  Copyright © 2014 C. M. Boers

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:

  978-0-9906452-1-4

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my family and friends, without them I would never have decided dedicate my time and effort to write and publish this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to thank all of my friends and family that had a hand in helping make this book what it is today. I would also like to thank all of my readers. Thank you for taking time to read my book.

  CHAPTER ONE

  My breathing is ragged. The vast desert surrounds me the further I run. Terror grips every ounce of my body. The slowly rising darkness does little to cool the sweltering heat; it only seems to add to my panic. Sweat pours down my back and my t-shirt sticks. Darkened saguaros spring up on the horizon as the sun descends from its rightful place in the sky. The blackened sky has yet to reveal the twinkling gems of the night. Tactfully, I maneuver around the bushes and shrubs until a clearing suddenly appears. I take the opportunity to sprint faster. As the dust from my footfalls envelopes me, a coughing fit ensues as my lungs involuntary attempt to clear themselves.

  I shot straight out of bed, gasping for air. Each time the dream became more real than the last. It began shortly after I learned we were moving to Arizona, and it had grown increasingly more prevalent. The torment was always the same. I am in the desert running and scared—but of what? My hope was the dreams would go away after we got settled in Arizona, but after a full week nothing had changed.

  We moved from beautiful Los Angeles, California to the deadening heat of Phoenix, Arizona. Why? Well, I can thank my mom for that one. After the divorce, she said we needed a change, a clean slate if you will. And of all places she could have chosen, she very well may have picked the hottest.

  The first day at a new school is bad enough, but the first day at a new school in a new town is absolutely terrifying. On top of that, I had just turned 16 and was starting high school. High school, for goodness sake!

  My name is Abigail Martin, but everyone calls me Abby. Tomorrow will be the first day of pure torture when I start at Kinsley High School. My stomach was a jumble of nerves thinking about it.

  “Abby, your dad is on the phone for you,” my mom called up the stairs.

  Rounding the corner, I saw my mom at the bottom of the landing. It was hard not to admire her beauty. My mom has exquisitely beautiful hair, which happens to be just like mine—long, brown and curly. I get my looks from her and most people say they can’t see any of my dad’s features in me. Mom and I share the same blue eyes and she is short like me, however, thanks to my dad I have a slight height advantage.

  I knew my dad was calling to check-in and make sure we were doing okay. I had to give him credit for being so tough throughout the whole ordeal. I mean, his only child moved six hours away; that was sure to be hard on anyone. I wouldn't tell him, but things were a lot harder than I’d like to admit. I really missed him. There was nothing I would love more than to move back to California and pretend that none of this ever happened.

  I spent my last day of summer decorating my new room. The curtains on my window were pastel blue, which matched the rest of the chocolate brown and pastel blue décor in my room. The last touch was a few pictures hung on the walls.

  Preparing for school should have been my next priority. Instead, I was enjoying my last bit of freedom relaxing in my new bedroom. From my window I was able see the beautiful sunsets that Arizona is known for. The horizon was a magnificent orange, and the sky above it was saturated like a pink, red and purple watercolor painting. The sun was half way out of view, brightly glowing orange in the midst of all the color. Even though these sunsets wouldn’t compare to a sunset on the beach, the rich colors in them made them glorious in their own way. Suddenly the sun disappeared, leaving night to descend over the valley.

  I grabbed a picture of my mom, my dad and I on the beach and climbed in bed. I fell asleep staring at my past, unsure of my future. However, it was time for me to move on, as my mom said, and embrace this new life. But was I ready for that?

  The next morning, I awoke drenched in sweat once again. My nightmares still hadn’t subsided; in fact, it seemed as though new details revealed themselves each time. This time I was sure I had been running away from someone, but I was unable to see whom it was. The last thing I remembered before waking up was the darkened figure trailing behind me. I briefly wondered if I’d ever get to the end of the dream and discover what I was actually running from. I had my doubts.

  After rummaging through the boxes on the floor, I finally found an acceptable outfit for my first day, a red tank top and some dark denim capri pants.

  I hopped down the stairs one by one to the kitchen, where my mom was cooking up eggs, bacon and toast for breakfast. Mom always made a good breakfast in the morning. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” she would always say. I can’t really complain; I love breakfast.

  “Mm, that smells delicious, Mom,” I said hungrily.

  “Good morning, honey, Sit down and pour yourself some orange juice, breakfast is just about ready. How did you sleep?”

  My mom had no idea I had been enduring nightmares for the last six months, but I wasn’t going to fill her in on that detail. She would probably drag me off to some therapist, which was something I would not tolerate.

  “Good.” I tried not to sound too enthusiastic, or she might have thought I was lying.

  “Are you excited to be starting high school today?” she asked.

  “No,” I responded smugly.

  She only glared at me. I didn’t bother to respond. Instead, I sat there in silent protest for the rest of the meal.

  Mom drove me to school on her way to work. I flipped through the radio stations until I found a rock station that sounded good, but Mom just changed it back to her classical music. I rolled my eyes. It was moments like that when I wished I had an MP3 player. We typically agreed on most things on account of the fact that we were very alike, but music was a different story entirely. I had my likes and she had hers, and under no circumstance did they cross paths.

  I gave my mom a quick wave as my eyes darted around the school, taking in all of my new surroundings. The school didn’t look much different than the high school I would have been going to in California.

  I arrived earlier than anyone else and decided to take the extra time to find all of my classes. I did not relish the idea of being late if I had to rush around later in the day to find one. The idea of bringing attention to myself in that way made my stomach turn.

  Even though the school looked about the same size as the high school I would’ve attended in California, this school was still much bigger than the middle school I had attended the y
ear before.

  All of my classes proved to be fairly easy to find and not far from each other—and for that I was grateful. I could only assume that having to travel from one end of the school to the other in seven minutes would be the biggest challenge.

  I still had an abundance of time before my first class began, so I found a picnic table in the front of the school and sat down. I passed the time watching my fellow students arrive. Many of them looked around as if they were lost or felt just as strange as I on the first day. Then there were the ones that emanated popularity and ease. Those were the particular students that never seemed to have a bad day, and for them the first day of school was like a party being thrown in their honor. They floated from friend to friend, catching up on the latest gossip. I had never been one of those people, and I doubted I would ever be. But I can't say I cared to be either.

  Realizing I had only five minutes until the bell rang, I hopped out of my seat. The walls in the hallway were plastered with posters and banners promoting all of the clubs and events around the school. My eyes went from poster to poster, weighing in on which groups looked the most enticing. So far the only one that seemed to catch my eye was Yearbook Club. I loved to take pictures, though I didn't do it often.

  My mind changed gears quickly when I noticed a boy who was, without a doubt, drop-dead gorgeous. He stood out in his khaki cargo pants, button-up blue plaid shirt and stylish sneakers—although I think he would have looked amazing in anything. The backpack he was wearing had a football patch pinned on it, and I wondered if he was on the football team. He had annoyingly perfect wavy blond hair, and his eyes were the most interesting shade of green.

  Suddenly, he looked right at me and my heart skipped a beat. It was unlikely he would ever be interested in a plain girl like me, but I immediately began imagining what it would be like to date someone like him. As he casually walked over to me, I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

  He towered over me, making me feel like a child.

  “Hi there,” he grinned.

  He was actually going to talk to me?

  “Hi,” I replied, almost in a whisper. I was unsure of what else to say.

  “Are you new here? I don’t remember seeing you before and I think I would remember that face.” His voice was as smooth as silk.

  I tightened my jaw a bit, trying to push back a smile. Ahh, he was complimenting me.

  I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I just moved here from California,” I told him, my voice a little less cowardly than before.

  “Wow! Move from the perfect weather of California to the insane heat of Arizona? Your parents must be nuts!” he chuckled.

  “Yeah, I don’t know what my mom was thinking.”

  “What’s your name? I’m Pete, Pete Denali.”

  “Abby,” I said, just as the bell rang.

  I realized we were alone in the hallway. I cringed; so much for getting to class on time.

  “Late on the first day, not exactly the ideal start to the school year,” he said regretfully with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Yeah, no kidding!” I laughed. “I'd better get going.”

  We both turned to walk quickly down the hall in the same direction. I shuffled my feet in time with his without even trying. I waited for him to turn and leave me, but when we walked into the same class I was shocked.

  I hoped the excitement wasn’t written all over my face, because I was thrilled at the thought that we had at least one class together. Algebra, my least favorite subject, wasn't looking so bad after all.

  When we walked into class and everyone turned to stare, my face felt red hot. I hadn’t realized we were that late. I took the first open seat I saw, willing the embarrassing redness to subside from my face. Pete followed suit, sitting in the seat directly in front of me. Perfect. I could actually stare at him the whole class period and he wouldn't have a clue. I felt a tinge of exasperation as I realized I was starting to blush again.

  Pete and I didn’t talk the rest of the period. Instead, we listened to Mr. Robbins go over the class syllabus for the upcoming year. Feeling bored, I alternated between staring at the back of Pete’s head and doodling in my notebook. Finally, when the bell rang, everyone gathered their belongings and headed out of class. All except Pete, who waited for me.

  “What’s your next class?” he asked as we walked out of the classroom together.

  “English. You?” I asked.

  “Darn, I have reading.”

  He walked me to my next class and it felt like my heart would beat out of my chest. Never had someone so attractive appeared interested in me before. You could call my dating life less than mediocre. I went on a few dates in California, but it was nothing to brag about.

  It was obvious that Pete was pretty well known just from our walk through the halls together. My self-consciousness started to get the better of me, and I already found myself wondering if he had a girlfriend. Maybe he was just being nice because I was new, not because he was interested in being anything more than friends. I chastised myself for jumping to conclusions.

  Before I knew it, we were standing in front of my next class.

  “Well, I guess I will see you later,” Pete said.

  “Okay, thanks for walking with me to class.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a fairly attractive boy staring at us. I found myself drawn to his frigid stare. He seemed to be glaring at Pete, and I couldn’t help but wonder why.

  His spiked black hair and piercing blue eyes were a stunning combination. He wasn't as tall as Pete, but he was far from being considered short.

  “Abby? Are you okay?”

  Oops! Pete had been talking to me while I was in my daze. I didn’t have a clue what he said.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked, embarrassed that I hadn’t been paying attention.

  “Would you like to sit with me at lunch?” he asked a little sheepishly.

  I was immediately ashamed that I had made him repeat it.

  “Sure, that would be nice.” I probably sounded overly enthusiastic.

  “Okay, I will meet you by the cafeteria after third period, see ya!” He called over his shoulder.

  I felt like I was on cloud nine as I walked into the classroom, until I was immediately shot down by the glare from the same boy I had seen in the hall. His blue eyes sure felt icy when they were staring you down with such disgust. He was standing next to the teacher’s desk, and I noticed now how well his baby blue shirt complimented those very same eyes. I wasn’t sure exactly why he was glaring at me—what had I done to deserve it? Maybe he didn’t like Pete, but why would he not like me if he didn’t even know me. I picked a seat in the center of the room and sat down. He sat down as the bell rang. Right. Next. To. Me.

  I tried to ignore him sitting there, but I couldn’t. I peered at him out of the corner of my eye. He was looking right at me and he caught me looking at him. Something in his hand was coming towards me: a folded up piece of paper. It surprised me, but I took it anyway. His handwriting was a little sloppy, but not terrible for a boy. The contents took me by surprise.

  You’re new here and you're already talking to the wrong people, not the best way to start out a new school year. Take my advice ditch the dumb jock.

  -Eli

  I was right. He did have a problem with Pete.

  Yes, I am new here. Isn't making new friends a good thing? Why not Pete?

  -Abby

  I waited for the opportune time to pass the note back. It came quicker than I expected. I put it in his hand as quickly as I could so that Mrs. Mosebee didn’t catch me. As my hand brushed his, a tingle shot up my arm. I snatched my hand back from him, looking down at it as if I had been bitten. I wondered if he felt it too, because he didn't seem disturbed. Maybe I had imagined it.

  Anxiously, I waited for him to return one to me. It never came.

  The bell rang and everyone filed out the room except Eli. He waited at the doorway for me.

  Once we wer
e out of the classroom he finally spoke. “Where are you headed right now?”

  “Science.”

  “Same for me,” he said as he started to walk in the direction of our next class. “That’s good we will have more time to talk.”

  “Okay, what is it?” I asked, sounding somewhat annoyed.

  “I don’t really know how to say what I want to say without sounding… jealous,” he admitted. “I just don’t think you should be friends or anything else with Pete Denali. Can we leave it at that? Can you just trust me?”

  I laughed. “Let me get this straight. You want me to stop talking to Pete, but you won’t tell me why. You want me to trust you and just leave it at that, even though we have just met! You must be crazy! I don’t know you any better than I do him. So what makes you more trustworthy?” I demanded.

  I couldn't believe what he was suggesting—after all, it was my first day. I had only made one friend so far, and he was already insisting that I was messing up my chances of fitting in without so much as an explanation. He was insane.

  We walked into class and Eli took the seat next to mine in the middle of the classroom. Then turned to face me.

  “I know how it must sound but—”

  “Stop! Until you can give me valid reason, I will not stop talking to him and even then I’m not guaranteeing anything!” I cut him off. I'd had enough of this nonsense.

  I sat down with a furious huff. A girl behind me noticed my foul mood and tapped me on the shoulder.

  Even more irritated than before, I turned around to discover that she seemed kind and friendly. I quickly tried to recover and smiled back to be nice.

  “Having a bad first day?” she questioned. She had an unusually round face, and her smile revealed dimples, making her green eyes seem even warmer.

  She had a very bubbly voice, which I was sure matched her personality.