The Genesis of Evangeline (The Lost Royals Saga Book 1)

by Rachel Jonas

  As I burst through the front doors, I was overjoyed to be putting some distance between myself and this place. The session with Dr. Cruz earlier only made me more excited about getting out of here. The stone walls and arched walkways gave me the feeling I had stepped back in time to the medieval days. Don’t get me wrong, the place was beautiful—from the ivy climbing the sides of the six buildings on campus to the grandiose, wrought-iron chandeliers that hung in each vestibule. The manicured grounds boasted a large fountain at the center of the courtyard where a map of sidewalks all converged.

  But it also had its drawbacks. All the rules and unrealistic expectations, for instance. These people loved structure and schedules and I… didn’t.

  I adjusted the large bun on top of my head; the one I threw together as I rushed from Dr. Cruz’s office to fourth-hour when I got tired of my ponytail snagging the zipper of my backpack. I could only hope the scrunchie was secure enough to hold through the rain. Clouds were gathering pretty quickly. It’d been raining and thundering just about every day, and yet, I failed to bring a coat or an umbrella.

  Because I’m so smart…

  A gust of air swept across my bare legs—a timely reminder that I rushed to get dressed this morning. There was no time to look for my standard-issue, school-approved tights—told you there were rules. So, not only was I freezing my butt off now that the temperature had suddenly dropped, but I had also received my first uniform violation from Headmaster McNulty. With my impeccable timing, I rounded the corner on my way to the restroom and ran right into her.

  I just couldn’t seem to find my footing here, but there was no way I’d share that with my parents or Dr. Cruz. She’d chain me to that chair in her office until I bled every last one of my feelings onto her floor. No, I wasn’t a model student in Chicago, but I kept out of trouble and brought in decent grades. Here? I felt like I was constantly messing up—forgetting assignments, running late to class, and the curriculum was lightyears ahead of what we were learning back home.

  The uniform violation and sucky session with the school psychologist did nothing but prove my point:

  I was drowning.

  Plaid skirts and pretentious, crested blazers lined the sidewalk and I picked up bits and pieces of conversations as I passed by—a compilation of petty, first-world problems.

  The result of having too much money and zero humility.

  A quick glance down at my clothes and I realized that, in our matching uniforms, I could easily pass for being just like the rest of them—rich, entitled. But that wasn’t true. I was nothing like them; not by a long shot.

  For starters, I didn’t come from money. Just a couple months ago, my family happily existed in a two-bedroom duplex hundreds of miles away in Chicago. We were normal people with our mismatched plate sets and weekend barbeques with friends. My mom’s idea of a fancy dress was one she could wear with cowboy boots and a denim jacket if she got cold.

  We, the Callahans, were simple people. Not that we weren’t still simple, but things were different now.

  Ever since Dad got the call and everything changed.

  It was a promotion he didn’t see coming because, according to him, he didn’t even qualify for it—from IT Project Manager to Senior Software Engineer in record time. Someone high up in the company hand-picked him, offered him an obscene amount of money, a cash bonus, and that was all she wrote. Within a few days, he was already making plans to uproot our entire family from Chicago. Next, Mom put in for a transfer to a local branch of the bank where she’d worked for a decade. Then, before I knew what was happening, we were being dropped smack-dab in the middle of suburban hell.

  Also known as Seaton Falls, Michigan.

  Undoing the yellow tie around my neck, I crossed the street with quick steps, headed up the steep incline of the street that led to my new home. After snatching the thing off and shoving it into the side pocket of my bag, I felt a little lighter. The plan was to be warm and zoning out in front of the TV in ten minutes or less. That was the closest I could get to happiness these days—watching television, living vicariously through fictional characters.

  It baffled me how a change of address could shake up my entire world. Tree-lined streets and cookie-cutter houses had taken the place of hipster coffee shops with free wi-fi and open-mic Tuesdays; eclectic bookstores with first-edition classics and a little spot that served the best fattoush salads the state of Illinois had to offer.

  And now I was here… simply existing.

  There were now a couple blocks between me and the school, away from the hustle and bustle of the parent pick-up lane and gas-guzzling busses. Two girls walked several feet ahead, but it was the sound of heavy footsteps behind me that caught my attention. I turned to glance over my shoulder and immediately wished I hadn’t.

  The source of this regret: a set of hooded, blue eyes; ones I’d accidentally locked gazes with the few times we passed one another in the hallway. Every time, he stared back, but never with the same intent as the others.

  Never like the others.

  Apparently, football practice had been canceled for a second time this week, likely because of the weather forecast again. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be headed home right now. Dressed in khaki slacks and a navy blazer that matched mine, Nick’s brow lifted a bit, making me aware of how long I stared. I wanted to punch myself in the throat for being so obvious. It was nothing short of a miracle I didn’t trip and fall, considering how long my eyes were on him instead of the sidewalk.

  Real smooth, Evie!

  I faced forward, hoping he didn’t read too much into that. It crossed my mind to speed up, but, if I did, he would’ve noticed and I’d seem even weirder. Every time he was nearby, I became so self-conscious, aware of everything—like how messy I’m sure my hair must have looked; how my dad once teased about my heavy bookbag making me walk like a lumberjack hauling half a tree on his back.

  You know… things like that.

  To make matters worse, Nick would be following me all the way home because he lived right next door, meaning there was no escape.

  I figured out his name the first day of school, but, before then, between my mom and I, he was affectionately referred to as “Tall, Dark, and Smexy”. She started calling him that after about the third time she caught me watching him on moving day. I did a piss-poor job of keeping my eyes to myself as we hauled boxes and furniture into the house. Eventually, she encouraged me to stop gawking and just go introduce myself, but there was no chance of that happening. I never made the first move on a guy and wasn’t about to start now. Rejection sucked and I wanted no parts of it.

  But yeah… that’s when he earned the nickname.

  Even now, without looking at him, I could still envision the shadow of short, dark hair covering his head and that crooked smile I’ve caught a glimpse of once or twice. And at five-feet ten inches myself, I tend to notice the guys I have to look up to. Nick, towering over me at six-foot-plus inches, was one such guy.

  But it didn’t really matter. I was almost positive his pretty face was nothing more than a distraction from a lack of personality. Shallowness was kind of an epidemic around here.

  Thinking of him in this new, unflattering light made me a little less concerned about his opinion, and I relaxed again.

  A few droplets of rain dotted my face and legs. Tugging the lapel of my blazer, I pulled it closed to keep warm. However, a rogue gust of wind just about took my skirt up into the air and, after squealing like a pig in a slaughterhouse, I let my blazer fall open in favor of holding the skirt down instead. It was either that or accidentally flash Nick as he trailed behind me.

  Seemed like the wiser decision.

  Ominous clouds gathered right above my head and, in a matter of seconds, the light drizzle became a downpour. With each car that passed, I prayed my parents had, on a whim, decided to drop whatever they were doing to offer me a ride home.

  I prayed ten times harder when the first rumble of thunder growled in the dis
tance.

  The weather here was crazy. I thought this was their norm until I overheard a couple teachers discussing it near my locker yesterday. Both blamed the changes on El Niño.

  When I told my friends back home about Seaton Falls’ wild weather, they said things had been off there, too. Apparently, patterns were insane everywhere.

  Probably global warming or something like that.

  And what I would have given for a little of that global warming to blow across my legs right at that moment. Felt like the temp had dropped a good twenty degrees since I left the house this morning.

  As soon as I got into the sweet spot of feeling just sorry enough for myself to pout, Mother Nature did me a solid and helped expedite the process, pouring a bucket of water right on my head as I walked. Strands of hair were matted to my cheeks and forehead. The thirty minutes I spent straightening it before school was all for nothing. Needless to say, I wasn’t a happy camper.

  Above the constant drumming of rain, and the rolling of rubber tires over wet pavement, another sound stood out—footsteps jogging up from my right just before a shadow covered me and the rain stopped battering me.

  I’d been rescued by an umbrella.

  …and Nick.

  Those same hooded, blue eyes found me now, just like they did in the halls. Only, this time, my stomach did this unruly teeter-tottering that brought with it a wave of nausea. Overwhelmed by the mere thought of him offering me his umbrella, a million stupid, girly thoughts popped into my head.

  He’s so close.

  He smells like candy and man… and I really like candy.

  He’s so tall.

  He’s so nice.

  Ugh… whose thoughts were these? I didn’t do sappy.

  It hit me that I hadn’t said anything since he walked up, so a rushed, “Thanks,” left my mouth as I glanced at him once again.

  “No problem. Looked like you were gonna get washed away.” He smiled and so did I.

  “Yeah, felt like it for a second.”

  I caught myself staring again and turned away as another stray thought entered my mind: I liked his chin. That’s probably a really, really weird thing to say or think, but… I did. There was a shallow dimple in it that was easier to see because he could’ve used a shave and… I don’t know… it was cute.

  Sue me.

  In so many ways, he looked much older than I imagined him to actually be—seventeen or eighteen like the rest of us seniors. In a month and a few days, I’d be a legal adult myself.

  I lowered my gaze to the sidewalk beneath our soaked, leather shoes, feeling both grateful for him rescuing me and awkward at the same time. My fingers wandered over my hair as I attempted to smooth it back into my bun, but it didn’t work. Strands that had been bone-straight at the start of the day were now a blend of defined waves and ringlets that framed my face.

  I stopped fidgeting with it, knowing it would only draw unwanted attention.

  “Some weather we’re having, huh?” His voice was so deep. The sound of it brought my brain to life as I scrambled for an answer to such a simple question.

  “Uhh... I know, right?” I spoke about eight octaves higher than normal.

  “Apparently, it’s not just here in Seaton Falls. Or even just in the States,” he went on. “There’ve been strange reports all over the globe.”

  At his words, I glanced up at the sky just beyond the umbrella and another ominous rumble of thunder rolled above us.

  “I’m not surprised.” I sounded more like me this time. “It’s kind of a miracle the ground hasn’t opened up and swallowed us whole just for kicks and giggles, considering all we’ve done to the environment.”

  He smiled and I was relieved my cynicism hadn’t rubbed him the wrong way. Not everyone knew how to take me.

  “Well, all I ask is that we get to graduate before it all falls apart,” he joked. “How bad would that suck to have suffered through school all these years and then the world ends months before we cross the finish line?”

  I thought about it and a laugh slipped out. “You’re right. That would suck.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But, on the bright side, if it happened sooner rather than later, it’d spare us the torture of finals.”

  He smiled again and, shoot me now, my stomach did that thing again.

  “Name’s Nick, by the way.”

  I pretended not to already know that, giving my name right after. “Evangeline… or Evie.” I quickly amended the clumsy introduction, adding, “Just… Evie.”

  He nodded and the way his brow twitched, I couldn’t help but wonder if he already knew who I was, too.

  “How are you liking Seaton Falls so far?”

  Being asked made me want to vomit all my complaints at the poor guy’s feet, but I refrained. He may have survived my cynicism, but I wasn’t sure he could handle my particular brand of snarkiness just yet.

  That typically took some building up to.

  “Umm… it’s growing on me,” I lied. Instead of letting that be good enough, I attempted to force a smile, too, which earned me an unexpected, hearty laugh from Nick.

  “It’s cool if you hate it,” he said.

  Okay, so maybe I wasn’t good at hiding my feelings after all. “I guess, truthfully, you could say I haven’t quite found my place here yet, but my parents keep telling me to give it time.”

  Despite the terrible weather around us, I could have sworn our steps were slowing, as if the rain didn’t matter anymore.

  “Most of us were either born and raised in Seaton, or moved here pretty young,” he explained. “I can see how it’d be hard for a newcomer to break through walls that thick.”

  And thick they were. Miles thick. Like the Earth’s crust.

  We took a few more steps before he spoke again, shoving his free hand in his pocket. “If you ever want me to show you around, introduce you to some people, just say the word. Maybe once you make a few friends, you’ll feel differently about this place.”

  Watching him while he watched the sidewalk ahead of us, I nodded. “Okay. I might just have to take you up on that, but consider this your warning: surviving awkward social situations has never been my strong suit. Don’t be too hard on yourself if no one takes to me,” I smiled.

  After speaking, I was reminded of the time my mother arranged a playdate for six-year-old me with a coworker’s son. What started as a simple day at the park, ended with the poor kid sobbing, face-first in the sand while I sat on his back, screaming, ‘Say you love me!’ Apparently, my method for getting him to be my boyfriend was less conventional, but I like to think of it as part of the learning curve. I never did it again. That’s what’s important, right?

  Nick’s crooked smile was back and, for a second, I freaked out, thinking I shared the embarrassing story out loud. But then, I came to my senses and just enjoyed the easy expression on his face. It was warm and subtle and I liked it more than I should.

  “Did you have a lot of friends back home in—”

  “Chicago,” I filled in. “And a few.”

  He nodded. “Well, you’re doing pretty well here, considering you haven’t been around long.” His smile grew and my heart felt like it swelled with it. “You just made your first friend in Seaton Falls without even trying.”

  His shoulder brushed against mine and my mind short-circuited. I was sure the offer to show me around, and the declaration of friendship, were just his way of being nice, but it was still flattering.

  We reached the entrance of our neighborhood and the walk seemed to take only half as long as usual. Nick quickly punched in the code and, the next second, the large, wrought-iron gate opened and we entered.

  I still wasn’t used to living here, living like this. The three-car garages alone were the size of our old place. Now, in the blink of an eye, we had three extra bedrooms that weren’t in use, a library we hadn’t even begun to fill, and a pool nearly the size of the one at my school in Chicago.

  Keeping up with
the cleaning around the house hadn’t been easy either. There was so much wood to polish—the floors, the banisters, the mantels. Mom mentioned hiring a housekeeper during dinner a couple nights ago and my father was all too quick to jump on board. I didn’t speak on it then, but, in the back of my mind, I hoped this wasn’t the beginning of the end.

  If my parents turned into a couple of pampered snots, I’d die.

  Nick’s gaze settled on me for a second. I noticed from the corner of my eye, but didn’t have the guts to meet his gaze. “It’s strange that we don’t have any classes together.”

  For a second, I was flattered he noticed. “It is.”

  “Which lunch period do you have?”

  I had to conjure a mental picture of my schedule and the words printed in the bottom, right corner. “B,” I replied.

  He gave a nod. “Me, too. I don’t remember seeing you, though.”

  My immediate thought was that he probably missed me because I spent nearly half my lunch periods locked in Dr. Cruz’s prison, but Nick opened his mouth to speak again and I completely lost my train of thought.

  And all he said was, “I’ll look for you next time.”

  I couldn’t help it; I stared directly at his face—his beautiful, lovely face and uttered the most eloquent thing I could think of… “Okay.”

  He smiled again and I couldn’t help but to wonder if this went beyond him being friendly and, maybe… there was something more.

  Like, he kind of looked at me the same way I look at him?

  Maybe?

  “I think this is your stop.”

  I glanced left toward my front door when Nick spoke, acknowledging that we were, in fact, right in front of my house. There was a strange, and yet undeniable, sense of disappointment I couldn’t shake, but I didn’t let it show through my expression.

  “And so it is,” I replied. “Thanks again for walking with me.”

  He nodded and a stretch of silence followed before he breeched it with a question. “What time do you usually leave for school?”