Book Read Free

Sublime Karma

Page 1

by Peyton Garver




  Table of Contents

  SUBLIME KARMA

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  SUBLIME KARMA

  PEYTON GARVER

  SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

  New York

  SUBLIME KARMA

  Copyright©2016

  PEYTON GARVER

  Cover Design by Melody A. Pond

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America by

  Soul Mate Publishing

  P.O. Box 24

  Macedon, New York, 14502

  ISBN: 978-1-68291-271-3

  www.SoulMatePublishing.com

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  For

  My Students

  Past, Present, and Future

  &

  Grace and Angeline

  Acknowledgements

  Two years ago Sublime Karma was just an idea, and that’s where my acknowledgements begin. Rebeckah, Ariana, Molly, Killian, Grace, and Amirah, you all read backstory and haphazard scenes when Sublime Karma was just a concept. Your excitement and feedback inspired me to see it through.

  Of course, where would I be without my very own cheerleaders? So here’s a shout out to you: Diane S., Diane M., April, Dar, Susan, Janice, Maryrose, Corree, Joy, Natelie, and Jane—thank you, thank you, thank you. Either you have read little snippets of Brie’s and Jake’s story, or you have listened to my anecdotes about them, often giving me new direction, encouragement, and thoughts to consider.

  Arlene Robinson, your edit of my earliest version helped me build the foundation to make my story worthy of the attention it has received, taking it from placid to intense.

  I am so very grateful to my beta readers: Grace Cillo, Sam Varona, Casandra Maier, Caitlin Harris, and Stephen Mershon. Your suggestions, insight, and honest feedback helped me to develop Sublime Karma into a solid story with depth, emotion, humor, and suspense. Grace, I love your ink sketch of the deer blind. It is central to Brie and Jake’s story.

  Maya, your artwork and portraits gave me vision to complete my cover art survey. Your influence is apparent in the final cover designed by Soul Mate Publishing’s artist, Melody Pond. Melody, you nailed the cover design, it’s perfect.

  One difficult aspect was getting my deaf characters right. Judy Heier-Hammond, Jaclyn Gleicher, Maggie Toman, and Alexis Stup-Spencer, your feedback and constructive criticism helped me to make my deaf and hard-of-hearing characters authentic. You have helped me add a perspective that I couldn’t have gotten right without you.

  To my acquiring editor, Janet Clementz, I am so glad you discovered Sublime Karma. I love your inspiring pep talks, suggestions, and of course, . But, it was that email you sent saying, “I love, love, love it!” that brought my dream to reality. To the rest of the Soul Mate community, you already feel like extended family. Thanks for your warm welcome, your encouragement, your suggestions, and your support.

  To my parents, thank you for inspiring me to follow my dreams. You’ve always believed in my endeavors, even when I doubted myself.

  And, most importantly to my husband, Pat, my love, my best friend, you have put up with countless days and evenings of me writing, rewriting, and editing Brie and Jake’s story. You have been my biggest support these past two years. Thanks for being you and believing in me. Love you lots!

  Chapter 1

  Jake Gordon read the note his dad had left for him and then shoved it into his pocket. It wasn’t unusual for his dad to be gone before he and his sister headed out to school, but today, Dad would be coming home late, too. He shook his still-damp hair off his face and called up the stairs. “Teag, I’m outta here!” The high school bus picked up a half hour before his sister’s middle school bus.

  “Okay, see you after football practice,” her yell rang in his ears before the door slammed shut behind him.

  Jake spotted his next-door neighbor walking down her driveway. He paused next to one of the tapered columns on his front porch and watched her until she reached her mailbox. She dropped her backpack to the ground and took her phone from her back pocket. A tender smile replaced his pensive gaze, and he shuffled down the porch steps. He cut through the dewy grass of their scant front yards.

  “Hey, Ari,” he stopped and inspected her ripped jeans, before settling his eyes on her T-shirt: Black Indigo Stain. Yeah, like he didn’t already know she was into that crunkcore, electronic, screamo crap. He felt his lips turn up in his easy familiar smile and wondered if she’d wear a T-shirt with his band on it. Maybe—but rock wasn’t her thing anymore.

  She looked up from her phone and flipped back her straight, fuchsia-streaked hair. “Hey, Gordon. You takin’ the bus?”

  “Yep.” He dropped his football equipment onto the sidewalk. “Greg picking you up?”

  “Yeah.” A coy smile played on her lips. “I’d offer you a ride, but you probably wouldn’t want to come on our detour.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I can not believe you just said that to me.”

  Ari’s front door burst open, and she and Jake both turned toward the distraction. Ari’s eight-year-old brother, Trevor, wearing his Spider-Man pajamas and rain boots, charged down the front yard. “Jeeek!” he yelled, making a diving lunge for Jake’s leg.

  Jake braced himself for impact, and with an exaggerated salute, he signed, “Hello.” before making a handshape “T.” He mussed up the boy’s tousled bedhead even more.

  Ari pried her brother off Jake and signed, “Go inside. Now.”

 
But, after shooting Jake a smug grin, he stomped his feet and snapped his first two fingers down onto his thumb at his sister, an unequivocal no, while he spoke the word, sounding more like “now” than “no.”

  Ari nodded back with her fist clenched into an S handshape, signing, “Yes. Now.” Extending both hands in sync, she pointed again at their house. “Go.”

  Trevor stuck his tongue out at her, but folded his arms across his chest and marched toward the house. Watching him, a warm smile crossed her lips. At the sound of Jake’s laugh, she turned back. “What’s so funny?”

  “You.” Jake’s eyes sparkled, and he gave her his dimpled, lopsided smile. The one he knew she couldn’t resist. “You’re not so tough with him.”

  “You’re gonna miss your bus, Gordon,” she jeered. “And, stop looking at me like that.”

  With a dying nod and the remnants of his smile, Jake grabbed his football bag. “Have fun with Greg,” he said, walking backward.

  “I intend to,” she shot back.

  “Later,” he scoffed, before their eyes locked in that familiar lamentable adieu that stood for unfinished business.

  “Yeah, see you later,” he heard her murmur after he had turned away.

  Jake spotted Kal stepping out of his front door a few houses down from him and Ari. “Hey, Kal! Wait up!” he called. Although a junior, Kal was a second year starter on the varsity football team and among Jake’s closest friends.

  When Jake caught up, he glanced back over his shoulder, down the street lined with quaint Craftsman style bungalows shaded by mature oaks. He knew she’d still be standing there by her mailbox, watching him. Gotcha. His smile grew.

  By the time they reached the bus stop, several others were there. Jake, the only senior, hated taking the bus to school. It was always overcrowded, but since theirs was the first stop, they had their choice of seats. Kal dropped into the first seat.

  Jake hesitated. “Switching seats?”

  Kal shook his hair from his eyes. “Yeah, Becca’s starting to get on my nerves. I need some space.”

  Jake nodded but made his way toward the back of the bus. He plopped down on the edge of an empty seat. His seat, four rows from the back, the one with the wheel-well hump.

  Pulling out his phone, he navigated to Ari’s message thread and texted. You know you want me

  Her text ricocheted back. Don’t be so sure of yourself

  He grinned. LOL good one. Hey come over to my house tonight and hang out my band is coming over to practice

  Tonight?

  Yeah

  You want me to hang out with your band?

  Yeah so will you? Staring at the screen, he waited.

  Maybe

  I’ll take that as a yes see you tonight

  Laughing to himself, he pocketed his phone.

  The bus snaked its way through the country roads, and then to the lavish development that backed up to the woods behind his house. Upperclassmen from this neighborhood had their own cars. This bus collected the underclassmen: those few who weren’t chauffeured, as minions of the privileged.

  Jake leaned back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest, not looking at the kids coming down the aisle. None dared to ask if they could sit in the empty space next to him. They’d sit three to a seat rather than make that request. Just the way he wanted it.

  The over-filled bus pulled to a stop midway down Belmont Circle. New stop? Jake looked out his window at the estate with a circular drive. Huh. It finally sold. He watched as a single figure headed toward the bus. What, so now they get door-to-door service? He rolled his eyes.

  Seconds later, she stood in the aisle waiting. From his seat, his eyes skimmed up past her faded jeans and plain, loose sweater, and his breath caught in his throat. Her long blond hair was pulled to the side in a loose braid. Her face? Ethereal. But then, his flustered gaze shifted to an annoyed glare.

  Her bleak gray eyes seemed to look right through him before they darted to the space next to him. Did she even register his indignation? She must have. Yet, she stood there in the aisle twisting the loose adjustment strap on her backpack tightly around her fingers.

  “May I sit here?” her meek voice broke the silence that had fallen around them.

  Noticing the hush of conversation, Jake’s eyes skimmed the crowded bus. There was no doubt he and this new girl had an audience. Not something he relished.

  His eyes swept back to her. He could tell she was nervous. He heard it in her quavering voice and saw it in the trepid manner in which she avoided his eyes. He could just say no. But, as long as she was standing, the bus wouldn’t budge. Becca looked at him from her seat across the aisle, then whipped her phone out and started texting. He narrowed his eyes at her, and then with a smirk, he stood.

  “Really?” he bit out at her under his breath, leaning close so only she could hear. He grabbed his backpack from the seat and football bag off the wheel well and then moved his six-foot-one frame into the aisle. With a jerk of his head, he directed her to the space by the window.

  She slipped by him with lithesome poise, maneuvering into the small space without so much as brushing against him. He watched her settle into the seat with perfect posture, even though her feet were propped up on the wheel-well. Her vacant eyes never returned to his. So, why was his heart suddenly beating faster? Was it because of his rudeness and the manner in which she ignored it? Could it be remorse? She didn’t seem to have that presumptuous, stuck-up attitude that so annoyed him. She looked almost . . . empty.

  Jake dropped his cargo into the aisle, and with the bus moving again, he chanced another glance, wondering what her story was. She had to be a senior, or at the very least, a junior. She seemed more mature than the girls at school, just in the way she carried herself. Why wasn’t she driving herself to school? It was hard to believe she had to ride the bus. It was actually hard to believe she was going to Frederick Central High instead of some elite private school. Jake wondered where she’d fit in, or if she would at all.

  Probably thinks I’m an ass. But, what did he care? Relaxing back in his seat, he closed his eyes.

  Chapter 2

  Jake slumped into his seat in the middle of the back row and opened his book just as the bell rang. Last period. Get this over with, then football practice—finally!

  “You’re tardy,” the teacher snapped. Jake looked up to see who had the balls to enter Ms. Cowley’s realm late. She’d go for the kill whenever she had the chance. It was her. News about the new girl had already made it through the gossip circuit.

  This last-period class was the third one he’d had with her. That made it Sociology, Shakespeare, and History: first, sixth, and seventh periods. She hadn’t spoken to anyone, at least not as far as he’d noticed. At lunch, she sat by herself, drawing in her sketchbook.

  Cowley peered at the girl over her granny glasses. “You’re the new student? Give me your add slip.”

  “Add slip? I just have a schedule card.”

  She sounds like she did on the bus. Jake shifted in his seat with a twinge of guilt.

  “Let me see that, then. What’s your name?” Cowley prodded.

  “Brie, Brie Lindstrom.”

  “Take a seat, fourth row on the end,” she ordered, handing back the schedule.

  Leaning forward, Jake’s eyes followed the new girl. When Brie met his eyes, a slight smile played at the corners of his mouth. She looked away.

  Wow, really? Nothing? Even after last period, Shakespeare? Slouching back in his chair, he watched her take her seat at the end of the row in front of him, next to Ian Morris.

  Finally free from the academic grind, Jake jogged out onto the field in his practice uniform, holding his helmet. “Yo, Troy.” He caught up to his best friend. “I thought you’d miss practice. No detention today, f
or being late again this morning?”

  Troy laughed. “Yeah, I got detention. Lunch, instead of after-school. Coach worked that one out for me, so I could make practice.”

  “I tried to text you when you no-showed for PE.”

  “Sorry, didn’t have my phone on me, or I’d’ve texted you. Coach pulled me out of PE to conference call with my dad.” Troy shrugged. “If I’m late again, I’m suspended from the team, and my dad’s takin’ away my ride. I’ll be on the bus with you.”

  “Off the team and no wheels? How’s that gonna work for you?”

  “Well, it won’t work for you, since I’m your ride home after practice. You want me to come pick you up tomorrow morning? Since I won’t be late anymore?”

  Jake grinned. “How would that go over with Pam? She’d have to sit her hot little ass in the back of your Stang while I ride shotgun.”

  Troy furrowed his brow.

  Laughing, Jake gave his friend a gentle shove. “I’m just messin’ with you, dude. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take the bus. Wouldn’t want to be a third wheel.”

  Troy was one of them. Everything handed to him on a silver platter. But, he had always been a true friend, ever since Jake went back to school after that crisis involving his mother ten years ago.

  “Look.” Troy motioned to the cheerleaders across the field, two in particular. “She still wants you back.”

  “Sarah?” he scoffed. “Not happening.” He looked across the field. Sarah stood with Troy’s girlfriend Pam looking back at them, but what caught Jake’s eye were the runners just beyond them.

  Brie Lindstrom? She’s on the cross-country team? Jake watched her begin stretching with the other runners. Whoa. A nervous wave pulsed through him, but was gone in an instant when the abrupt, piercing peal of Coach’s whistle helped him refocus. Thankful for the distraction, he expelled his breath and hustled onto the field.

 

‹ Prev