Raven: The Young Adult World of Genetically Modified Teens and the Elite (Swann Book 6)

by Ryan Schow

  Wounded hearts and bodies will heal; our heroine is a damaged woman who will, at first, detest the attorney before falling for him, and then she will, in all likelihood, marry him and live happily ever after with his two point three children. Oh, and judging the book by its cover, along the way bodice’s will likely be ripped and vaginas will most certainly be conquered.

  As I contemplate this romance novel, and Arabelle, I can’t help wondering about my own ending. What will become of me? Will I ever have my happily-ever-after?

  Great. Now I’m thinking about my father, Netty, Brayden, Rebecca and Margaret, and in my mind, I know I’m not strong enough to blaze my own trails in life. They are my home, these people, my safety net. The truth is ugly, but it dawns on me, leaving me with bigger problems to consider: no one loses everyone they love and deems that a happily-ever-after.

  4

  Brayden was unpacking his things when Damien knocked on his dorm room door. He left the door and the window open on purpose—to air out the place from summer break—but seeing Damien, he was thinking maybe he should’ve shut it.

  The door, not the window.

  Seeing Damien with Abby, the after-Abby looking so happy to talk to him (when she had no clue who he was, or know how deeply he’d disappointed the before-Abby), was like Damien getting a free pass for having been a douchy McDouchebag to her. Yet there she fell, right into his arms, as smitten as ever. It curled Brayden’s shorthairs. Pissed him off. Naturally this was guy-code for him feeling like a pouty, jealous girl.

  “What’s up, Brayden?” Damien said, oblivious to Brayden’s mood as he stepped inside the room.

  Damien’s hair was a little longer on top with a pomade shine, and cut super short on the sides. It was the current trend. Androgynous as his face was, he could have done whatever he wanted with his hair and it would’ve looked good because he wasn’t a natural toad, which was how Brayden felt about himself. A scarred up toad. That was half the reason he quietly despised his pseudo-friend and classmate. The other reason was because Damien had Abby’s affection at one point in time, and he abused it. Took her for granted. Broke her heart for not being a natural beauty. Now it seemed he was getting the do-over of the century and he didn’t deserve it.

  “Hey,” Brayden replied, lackluster.

  “So, summer was terrific,” he said, starting the conversation. “I interned for a prestigious law firm in the city—Yates, Peterson and Scott—and I learned a ton. I even got to sit in on some trials. In the courtroom, that is. Not at council’s table, but close enough.”

  “Sounds exciting.” Still monotone. Still irritated. Brayden started unpacking. Damien took the hint, but not so much that he left Brayden alone.

  “So Abby’s here,” Damien said, reaching.

  “Yep. Saw you two together. Looks like you’re getting along fine.”

  “Nothing like amnesia to erase all your unsavory moments,” he said with a laugh he cut short when he realized Brayden wasn’t laughing with him. “I was a jerk to her.”

  Brayden stopped, turned around and said, “Yeah, you were. Try not to be again. You’ve got no clue as to what she has been through. What all of us have been through for her to even be alive today.”

  “I kind of do. I mean, you told me everything, didn’t you?”

  “She was…dead. Now she’s someone else.”

  “Does she remember…you guys being friends? When she was Savannah, I mean? Does she remember any of that?”

  “She can’t even remember her own family, much less me and you and all of her friends. She’s…she’s like a blank slate, man.”

  Just then the tall kid with the TV star sister popped his head in Brayden’s room, taking them both by surprise. He could be Justin Bieber’s larger, slightly younger brother for the way he looked. Girls were going to love him, which irritated Brayden. Everyone in this place was so much better looking than him.

  “Hey guys, I’m Tavares Baldridge,” he said, chipper, but not like he was heading a pep-rally, or running for class president. More like he was just a decent guy. “You both live on this floor?” He was referring to Damien at this point since he was all but standing inside Brayden’s room now.

  “I’m Brayden and this is Damien,” he said getting up. Tavares shook both their hands. He had a relaxed grip and an infectious smile. The kid’s demeanor made Brayden think of Paul Walker, from the Fast and Furious movies, if Walker and Bieber were half brothers. He sort of liked him already. Which aggravated him even more.

  “I’m in this room,” Brayden said.

  “And I’m upstairs,” Damien said.

  “Groovy,” he said. “I’m next door. Just wanted to stop by real quick and introduce myself.”

  Brayden and Damien said good-bye to him and almost the second Tavares went inside his room next door, Caden showed up to say hello. He was on this floor this year, down the hall.

  “How was your summer?” he asked Brayden with enthusiasm. When you don’t see each other for three months at a time, you all end up asking the same questions. Still, Caden had that new semester high going on. Good for him.

  Mostly shitty, Brayden wanted to say. Instead, he said, “It was interesting. Didn’t quite go the way I thought it would’ve gone. But whatever. I’m looking forward to this semester, if only to put the last three months behind me.”

  “Sounds intense,” Caden said.

  Even though he was from back east, Caden had that surfer look going for him. Shaggy blonde hair that looked good on him, medium build, tanned skin—probably from tanning beds and not the sun.

  “I met three loves of my life,” Brayden said, “and now all three are pissed off at me, so school’s kind of a welcomed change of scenery.”

  Caden smiled wide, bobbed his head and said, “That’s awesome man. That you had time with them. Not awesome that they’re mad at you.”

  “It is what it is,” Brayden mused. “At least the sex was good.”

  “You did all three of them?” Caden asked. Staring at him, Brayden wondered if the tan was indeed fake. It looked real. Even Damien was all ears.

  “Yep. Shouldn’t have done that, but whatever. Lessons learned, right? What’d you do this summer?”

  “Mostly surfed. Found all the hot spots in L.A., Santa Cruz, Hawaii. Hell, I even spent two weeks in Australia.” He pulled up his shirt to the most spectacular six pack Brayden had ever seen. His muscles were actually cubed. Brayden was cut, but not like that.

  Guess the tan was real after all.

  “Holy shit,” Damien said. Damien looked like the lawyer life left him soft compared to Caden and Brayden. At least Brayden had one thing on his classmate. Then again, crisscrossed over his less defined six pack were the scars of his youth. Scars he was finally coming to terms with.

  “Speaking of being in shape…Brayden—my man—when the hell did you start lifting?” Caden asked.

  “In Vegas mostly. Few months back. Maybe more.”

  Caden high-fived him, which made almost no sense, then to Damien he said, “Dude, so what’s up with you?!”

  Looking less excited about his news, he said, “Interned at a law office, which sounds a bit boring next to spending the summer getting laid in Vegas or…surfing all over the world for three months.”

  Was it bad Brayden felt a grim swell of satisfaction knowing Damien had the most boring summer of all and ended up pasty white and not with abs? Probably not, he reasoned. Definitely not.

  “I want to check out your new room,” Damien said, eying Brayden. He and Caden said they would catch up with him later and left, finally leaving Brayden to his unpacking. He had a feeling Damien was relieved Caden came by. It was a relief for them both.

  5

  When he was done unpacking, Brayden went next door, knocked on Tavares’s door and when the boy answered, he said, “I hope you’ve got a decent laptop.” Right now he was itching to break into something, to cause some sort of digital destruction. If anything to blow off steam.

 
; “You don’t have one?” Tavares said.

  “It’s a long story involving the FBI and possible jail time,” he replied ever so casually.

  “Well you can borrow mine whenever you want,” he said. He’d changed into cut up light blue jeans, a white and green striped short sleeved t-shirt and white Vans shoes. He looked super laid-back, sort of preppy. After a moment, he said, “Unless you need it now.”

  He stepped aside to let Brayden in, so he went in. Brayden didn’t know why he did. He didn’t have to use the laptop, not really—he just wanted to know he had access to one if needed. The same way an alcoholic wants to know the location of all the local bars.

  Just in case.

  “Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?” Brayden said.

  “Listen, my sister’s on the way up, you can meet her in a second, then we have to head to Admin and check in, or something. I don’t know. We’re supposed to meet some woman named Janine. We can meet up when I get back though. If you want.”

  “For sure, man. I’ll show you around campus.”

  Behind them there was a knock on the open door. Brayden turned and saw her: Tavares’s sister. He knew her type right away: bitchy-hot. Damn, he hated girls like that.

  “Brayden,” Tavares said, “this is my older sister, Sabrina. She’s a senior this year.”

  Brayden smiled. She, on the other hand, did not. Mr. Calm, Cool and Collected, meet the Sabrina the Motherfreaking Ice Queen.

  “Hey,” he said.

  She looked past him and said, “We have to go. That’s why I called up. So you would be ready.”

  Sabrina went from being the b-word to being the c-word in no time flat. Looking her in her eye, even though she refused to match his gaze, Brayden said “You know, first impressions here are everything.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry, it’s just…we’re in a rush,” she said, finally acknowledging him.

  “She’s here as punishment,” Tavares replied. Like he had come to terms with her being a class A turbo-wench.

  “It’s none of his business,” Sabrina snapped. Appraising Brayden with cool, impatient eyes, she said, “No offense.”

  He held her eye for a moment, then said, “Well it was nice to meet you, Tavares,” and breezed past her like she was nothing to him.

  When he went to go into his room, he found the door shut and locked. Crap. The breeze must have sucked it shut. He went to the elevators opposite the one Sabrina and Tavares went to, pushed the down arrow and waited. Moments later he crossed campus and located Janine a few minutes before Tavares and Sabrina did. She called the janitor who then met Brayden back at his room with a master key in hand.

  “You did this last year, too,” he said. Brayden recognized him, then apologized.

  “The day is turning to shit fast,” Brayden said, “if it’s any consolation.”

  “It’s not,” the janitor said, then left.

  He was about to close his door when he heard the elevator bing! and saw Abby coming out. When she saw him, she said, “Hi, Brayden. I didn’t know you were on this floor.”

  “I am,” he said, talking to her like someone he barely knew, and sounding nothing like he wanted to sound. Inside, his heart slapped a reckless beat. For everything that went wrong over the summer, him losing her was by far the worst. It physically hurt. “How are you?”

  “Fine, thanks. I’m looking for Damien. Someone said he’s down here?”

  “In Caden’s room at the end of the hall,” he said, even though he missed her so much it left him feeling flattened all over again. “Room seven.”

  Leaning forward, trying to figure out how to say it, she said, “Did we? I mean, me and Damien. Did we date? Or something?”

  Brayden wanted to smack her. Instead, he smiled and calmly said, “For the five minutes you were together, you two were a catastrophe. As in, you were all over him and he was in love with his missing step-sister. It creeped you out, but whatever. Make your own mistakes twice if you need to.”

  Her mouth dropped open, which was the perfect time for him to go inside his room, shut the door and leave her standing alone in an empty hallway.

  6

  Abby was going to love it here, at least, that’s how it felt. There were so many beautiful people there it was staggering! Totally unreal. This, of course, had her so excited she wanted to come out of her skin…literally.

  Dr. Holland was right. Hers was a blessed life. She did miss her parents, and the friends she had before she was taken, but was it so bad? No! She had a gorgeous father, a mother figure in Orianna and the attention of some of the hottest freaking guys she had ever seen.

  Caden and Damien, for starters. Plus about four other randoms who were eye-humping her the way trashy older men get all candy-eyed over smoking hot teenage girls. Except these weren’t disgusting old men. These guys were tens!

  She made a mental note to go see Dr. Holland after class, thank him for what he’d done for her and promise to always and forever be Abby Swann. She would miss Janice a little here and there, but in time, she could say good-bye to that part of her life.

  And really, would it be so hard?

  Before she was Abby, she was Janice the nobody. Janice the everybody. What stood out most in her life was how wasted her mom usually looked dropping her off at school even though she had never taken an illegal drug in her life. It was the double shifts at the gas station that were killing her. Her mother never slept, and this had her aging fast. Too fast. It made Janice afraid of what she’d look like when she was her mother’s age. Or what lengths she would go to pay the bills and have something left over.

  The thing she learned from her mother was vanity was a sin. So she didn’t know how to do her makeup until she snuck off to Nordstrom’s as Abby Swann and paid some old broad an obscene amount of money from her bottomless credit card to teach her. Now she looked hot as hell and ready to party. But this had her thinking about her mother again. By example, Janice’s mother taught her to give up on her looks and health when what she should have been teaching her was how to fight for something better. To at least try.

  That’s where her step-father came in. He was a mechanic and he worked long hours, and though they could afford a house, rather than the trailer they all lived in, he’d said, “If you spend all the money you make when you’re fit enough to work, what’ll you do when you are no longer healthy? Government handouts? Social Security will be long gone when you’re our age, kiddo.”

  They were trying, Janice supposed. Trying hard to keep a roof over their head and food on their table. Trying to build up retirement money in the bank. With Janice gone, it would be easier on them, she reasoned. One less face to feed. Abby reckoned that was the silver lining in her having been kidnapped: she’d no longer be such a financial burden to her parents.

  Moving on…

  For Janice, the first day of school was always depressing. Each year she’d gained a little more weight, then she’d hate what she had become and lose it during the school year by starving herself. Her hair was not shiny, not full. It was mostly parted in the middle in a way only Janice Millworth could. Not now. Abby was sexy, wanted, not even close to boring or plain. She was popular, confident and looking for the hottest dick in the box because Abby freaking Swann got whatever is was she wanted.

  So today, the first day of school, it would be nothing like Janice Millworth’s first day of school. Today, Abby was going to make this day her bitch.

  At breakfast, she ate with Damien, Caden and three incredibly beautiful girls who were apparently her besties: Tempest, Cicely and Georgia. Then there was Brayden. When they met this summer, she thought he was charming but in a rough, bad-boy sort of way. Him being hot and lusty wasn’t in the cards, but he was likeable enough, and durable as a friend.

  Until he started pulling attitude.

  Things between her and Brayden were certainly weird. He seemed suspicious, like the girl he knew was nothing like her. She refused to get too close because supp
osedly they were practically best friends, besides her and Netty anyway. She didn’t want her secret exposed, so she played dumb and she acted disinterested. If she was ever going to be the successful Abby Swann Dr. Holland demanded she be, she’d have to be her own version of the girl in order to make it work. And the sooner these people saw that girl, the safer she felt.

  First period was nothing like the classes she had in public school. There wasn’t Algebra II or Geometry or Physics or English. First period here was “The 7 Pillars of Power,” which was an in depth study of the true nature of power.

  Professor Anderson Zanetti had an impressive head of salt and pepper hair, a tidy little goatee, and a spread of crow’s feet around his eyes. He was old, but handsome. Distinguished. Like he belonged in a whisky commercial aimed at those dripping with money. At least, that’s what she got from him and his three piece suit.

  “Our reality is determined by a handful of people using the pillars of the world view,” he stated. “Your freedom is only freedom if you believe you are in fact free. Which you are not.”

  Okay, Abby thought, this is interesting…

  “You are sheep. All of you. Sheep to the pens created for you. The 7 Pillars of Power are the cages that hold and control you, and from these seven cages are seven mouthpieces, or pillars, declaring so fervently that you should celebrate your freedom, of which you have little to none, and less by the day.

  “For those of you who subscribe to a religious institution, there is a good chance you’ll eventually give ten percent of your money to your church as tithing, or charitable contributions. Religious institutions have a controlling effect on people and take their pay accordingly, third partying how you should behave, enforcing it with guilt, then claiming the money you are giving them supports the spreading of God’s word. In many cases, this money goes someplace else entirely.”

  Several hands shot up. Abby looked at the hands and the people raising them, awestruck, if not shocked, by what was being said. This man, Professor Zanetti, he’d be fired and chastised, probably publically hanged for saying the things he was saying if this was a public school. You can’t talk about God in school, much less tear down religion wholesale!