The Changeling's Source (Evedon Legacy Book 1)

by Sarah Lynn Gardner

  The bell began its three-ding death toll, and Jack, Kenny, and Geoffrey scurried into class. As always, waiting until the last second to enter.

  “Yeah, I get it. You didn’t need to scare him off though.”

  She leaned closer. “If I’m the one scaring him off, you can blame me later on when maybe something could work out.”

  I actually smiled. “Lydia, you’re too funny.”

  She grinned. “Just watching out for you.”

  I half smiled, lowering my brows. “Thanks.” I slid around to face forward.

  “Kenneth and Geoffrey!” Monstrose entered the room late, which never happened. “If you can’t remain in your seats with your mouths shut, then I’ll require double homework from you the rest of the term. Am I clear?”

  Kenny slipped back into his desk. Geoffrey grabbed a piece of paper from him before sitting at his. Behind Geoffrey, Jack covered his mouth to hide a smile. More than likely, he was the culprit.

  Jack could act quite mature when he wasn’t with those two, but together, they acted like a pack of six-year-olds. Whichever counselor put them in the same class together either didn’t know better or hated Montrose.

  “Asher, go ahead and take the empty seat by Tara.”

  What? He didn’t just say Asher.

  I turned around, and there he was, tall, gangly and obnoxiously attractive.

  Oh, yes he had.

  Asher sat next to me, somehow pulling his long legs under the desk, though he looked uncomfortable.

  Stop staring at him. Though he was doing sort of the same thing with me, having that same mirth-filled expression on his face from when he’d seen me in the bathroom.

  I jerked my gaze away, opening my notebook to look busy.

  Without any explanation of why Asher would join our class, Montrose launched straight into his final lecture on Gatsby, talking about the symbolism of the billboard.

  Nervously I made an act of jotting notes, bending over my desk and hiding myself from the world with a hand. My stomach turned, negative source brewing with it.

  Asher turned sideways to get his long legs out into the aisle, but it also meant he now faced me.

  I had a hard time concentrating on anything because of his cologne and the unknown reason why he was now sitting next to me in this class instead of the one he’d previously been attending.

  By the end of Montrose’s lecture, I had few notes worth anything, which wasn’t good for the test tomorrow.

  Montrose, despite starting late, closed his lecture with several minutes to spare.

  Curse him.

  All around, my classmates grouped together in chatter.

  “Tomorrow, you’ll have your final essay exam on the novel,” Montrose spoke over the rumble. “No homework since we’ll be beginning a new unit the day after.”

  Annoyingly, Asher didn’t go to talk with someone else in the room.

  I gathered my notebook and class novel, glancing at the clock. Still like four minutes. I could doodle to pass the remaining minutes.

  “I’m sorry about lunch,” Asher said.

  I smiled a little, not looking at him. Instead, I created character drawings for a graphic novel, making them up on the spot.

  “You’re an artist.”

  “You’re really still trying to talk to me?” I asked, not looking at him.

  “Yes.”

  I looked at him and was caught in his amazing green eyes. Didn’t help that he smelled amazing. “But I keep being cold to you.”

  Asher frowned, his brows furrowing. “Can I see your notebook?”

  “Um—”

  Asher bent over toward me and didn’t wait for my answer before taking my pen. His fingers grazed my skin, sending electric tingles up my arm. I immediately pulled away from him.

  He turned to an empty page and quickly drew an anime-style picture of a boy meeting a girl.

  Under it he wrote, Give me a chance. Then wrote a phone number.

  How bold.

  Warmth blossomed with positive source in my chest. I couldn’t stop the smallest smile from breaking through. When Asher saw it, his grin widened.

  The bell rang, and he gave me back my pen. Silly, but I treasured that his hand had touched it. With a wink, he stood and exited the room.

  Lydia leaned forward. Reading over my shoulder, she pulled my notebook closer. “I wouldn’t if I were you,” she whispered. “At least not yet.”

  Snatching my notebook away, I closed it with a snap.

  A mixture of positive and negative source swirled inside me, jumbling my thinking. Jumping up, I hurried out in the hall where I bumped straight into Sam.

  “Watch where you’re going!” she said, shouldering me into a locker before continuing on her way.

  I stared up at the ceiling. Lydia was right. The attention of a boy was not worth raising Sam’s ire. After all, in all likelihood, he’d realize how crazy I was pretty quick and stop trying.

  My head pounded with a tension headache, and I headed to Mrs. Keely’s classroom without even returning to my locker.

  Which meant I had nothing for her class.

  As I sat and placed the Great Gatsby on my desk, two sad eyes stared up at me. It was then I realized a tear was slipping down my cheek.

  Which was stupid. I swiped at it. Why did I have to be such an emotional rollercoaster?

  “Tara?” Mrs. Keely entered. “We don’t have class for another hour.”

  “What?” I looked at the clock and had a hard time connecting the time with where I was and where I was supposed to be.

  “Is everything all right?”

  I shifted my notebook around on the desk, searching my muddled mind for the missing link in my schedule. All I could think about for a minute was Asher’s drawing inside it. “No…I…”

  Earth Science was next. “I...I have science with Miss Elleck.”

  “Did you want to finish your exam? This is my work period.”

  “Well…” I closed my eyes, tired, wanting nothing more than for summer and my hammock in the backyard. I was so full of negative source, what did it matter if social studies inspired more? “I’ll need a pass from Mrs. Elleck first so I’m not marked absent.”

  After getting it, I came back to Mrs. Keely’s room.

  For once, I applied myself to the test, but thinking about war made me nauseous, and by the time I finished with the essay, I was more than ready to go home and curl up in bed.

  Finished, I slipped the test packet away from me.

  Mrs. Keely stood from her desk and came over. Picking up my exam, she went through my answers. When she finished, she stared at the last page too long. “This is great work, Tara.”

  She took the test over to her desk and placed it on a stack of papers, then returned, sitting down in the seat in front of me. “Now what's going on?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “Your brother is in the army, isn't he?” she pried.

  No. That was the cover-up. I rested the side of my face on my fist and looked out the window. Under the table, my left knee started shaking.

  Outside it was a golden October day. Perfect weather to be in nature. I hadn’t done that in too long.

  “You must be worried about him.”

  “I’m not worried.” I looked at her, feeling the ice around my heart thicken. “He’s doing the same thing my dad did that got him killed.”

  “You know, there are programs for young people who’ve lost loved ones to war.”

  “I don’t need a program.”

  I needed a dad and a mom, and friends who didn’t backstab me.

  Even Holden, the one person who’d been my staple after Dad’s death, had failed me. Now, he was off doing the same stupid thing my dad had done. And every day, I waited in fear for Holden’s father to come to our doorstep and tell us Holden had been killed also.

  I didn’t want to go through betrayal and abandonment again.

  As intriguing as Asher was, I needed to guar
d myself against him. I didn’t need Sam’s jealous anger directed at me. I didn’t need the flighty attention of the new boy, trying to figure out where he fit in. Once again, I would be the victim and everyone else would go about their lives as normal.

  5. Last Spring

  After sliding into Jack’s front passenger seat, I put my feet up on the dash.

  “If I get in a wreck, you’re dead.” Jack put the key into the ignition and turned it. The old Ford Mustang revved into life. “Feet down. Put your seatbelt on.”

  “Has this baby ever gotten in a wreck?” It was the car his older siblings always drove. I remembered being bussed around in it as a kid.

  Jack turned and glared at me. I was being ornery on purpose, and I glared back at him.

  With an under-the-breath growl, Jack shifted the gear into reverse and backed up. As we entered the parking lot traffic, he asked, “Do you want to study together for Lit tonight?”

  “I’m not studying,” I said.

  “You’re that sure of the material?”

  “Yep.”

  “You want to help me?”

  “No. Don’t you usually study with Kenny and Geoffrey?”

  “They ditched me when I told them I was taking you home.”

  “Won’t they ostracize you for the rest of the week if they find out we studied together?”

  He laughed. “Of course not. What do you say? Wanna come over?”

  I pursed my lips to one side. It had been six years since I was last at his home. “I’m not sure. I think I’d rather go home.” Which was a total lie. I’d rather go anywhere but there right now. If he drove around aimlessly, then I might have been happy.

  As we inched our way through the after-school parking lot traffic, he became quiet. I had nothing to say, so the silence was even longer.

  It irked me, because I could sense something bothered him. He had that stitch over his left eye, and after a few seconds, he hummed to himself. The fact he hadn’t turned on the radio was a more telling sign, and I almost turned it on to spite him.

  Leaving the parking lot, he turned right, away from my home.

  “Uh. I live in that direction.” I pointed behind me.

  “I know.”

  “If you have something to say, then why don’t you?”

  He glanced at me. “When are you going to stop letting what Sam and Jerrick did to you define who you are?” he asked.

  Whoa. Not what I had expected. Now that he and Lydia weren’t together, he was actually going to pretend to care. Even notice my bad attitude enough to assign a label for it. “The entire school turned on me. Not just them. Or did you forget?”

  “I think you may have exaggerated—”

  “Besides, you mistakenly assume I hate life because of Sam.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Then what is it? Lydia has tried all year to—”

  “Whatever, Jack.”

  “You know I don’t like whatever,” he snapped. He picked up speed after passing the middle school.

  “Again, my home is that way. Are you kidnapping me?”

  “No! You’re going to help me study.”

  The light ahead turned green as Jack sped toward the traffic stop.

  Before we reached it, Jack unexpectedly slammed on his breaks, which lunged me forward. I slammed into the dash as a car ran the red light coming the other way.

  If Jack had gone through, I would have been nailed.

  I slipped my feet down and sat up straight. Maybe I should put on my seatbelt after all.

  “Seatbelt now,” Jack whispered. All color had gone from his face, and he was shaking.

  “Yeah.” I immediately followed orders this time. “How’d you know to stop?”

  “A voice inside my head told me to,” Jack said. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath that came out trembling.

  The driver of the car behind us blared his horn.

  Still shaking, Jack drove forward, making it through the yellow light.

  Which meant the driver behind us went through the red.

  “What is this!” Jack shouted. “Such blatant disregard for traffic laws.”

  I reached over and placed a shivering hand on his arm. It was an unusual gesture for me, but the near collision had thrown me, reminding me I cared about Jack.

  If I’d had any positive source to share, I would have calmed him with some, but my touch seemed to be enough.

  “If you really hate me,” Jack said, “then I’ll drop you off at home. Otherwise, I need your brains for this test tomorrow.”

  “I don’t hate you, Jack. In fact, you are one of the only people I trust.”

  He looked sideways at me for a couple of seconds, then reached to turn on the radio. He changed it from Christian Rock to Classical. A voice that would put me to sleep announced the next song by some long dead composer.

  I’d never made an effort to listen to Classical, but as I did, it seemed to trickle positive source into me. Maybe I should have this be the station Daniel played for me when I was in one of my moods.

  Out the window was the elementary school Jack, Lydia, and I attended as kids. They’d built a new school somewhere else, and this was now temporary housing for Town Hall while the one downtown was being renovated.

  It had been more than three years since I had visited this part of town. Being here called up memories I didn’t care to linger on, because they all included Dad.

  Jack drove across the highway, took a few more turns, and finally parked outside his outskirt home. Dr. Spalding was outside, working on his old Ford truck. His hair was gray now, and he wore glasses. Neither one suited the infallible image I had of him in my memory. He’d been one of Dad and Mom’s attending physicians while they were going through their medical residencies. The reason they’d gotten their jobs here in town.

  The first time I played with Jack was when I was a toddler, and his mom watched me.

  When Jack hesitated to get out, I sensed he still wanted to ask something, so I sat back in the seat, running my hand against the inside leather of the car.

  Jack and his dad liked old cars. His mom liked antique furniture.

  “Are you mad at me for dating Lydia?” he asked.

  “No,” I answered. “She always had her eyes on you, even when we were in kindergarten.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Jack, I moved. I went to a different school. I made new friends. I was fine.”

  “Were you fine?” He rubbed his hands over the steering wheel, studying it intently. There once was a time, minus weekends, where Jack and I spent every minute from seven in the morning until seven at night together. Part of that golden time when Dad was still alive. “Your mom moved you right after your dad died. Pretty much cut off communication with everyone.”

  “Yeah, that rocked my world, Jack.” Tears burned briefly in my eyes. “But I made new friends, and I was popular, so, sure. I was fine.”

  He tilted his head back and looked at me. “Were you?”

  I tensed and didn’t answer. I really missed you. “Eventually.”

  “But you aren’t now,” he said.

  This could be my chance to open up with someone about last year. I opened my mouth to say something but hesitated.

  He smiled encouragingly. “You know, you did say I’m one of the only people you trust. What happened last spring?”

  My version. Tell him my version. Maybe here was someone who would actually believe me. “I used to think I liked Jerrick—that I wanted to date him. I wrote silly things about him in my eighth and ninth grade journals.”

  Jack’s eyes narrowed. “So all those entries that got passed around school last spring weren’t written last year?”

  I shook my head, remembering walking into the school last year and finding out someone had photo-copied my journal and taped them to the wall.

  Jerrick had been a star football and basketball player while Samantha was a popular cheerleader. Bot
h were known well around school. They were the It couple.

  “I stopped writing about him when they began dating. I still haven’t been able to figure out who it was, Jer, Sam, one of their younger siblings. It could have been any of them, but they took pictures of those entries.”

  “And plastered them all over the school, making it look like you were in love with your best friend’s boyfriend.” Jack rubbed his brow.

  “When Jerrick found out I’d had a crush on him, he confronted me. Said he loved me, but hadn’t realized the feeling was mutual when he started dating Sam. He tried to persuade me to date him by telling me he’d broken up with Sam. Though later I found out they were still dating.”

  A look I interpreted as disbelief clouded Jack’s face, and I stopped. “Never mind.” This was a mistake.

  “The picture that showed up on your online account,” Jack said, “of you and him almost kissing. You didn’t take it, did you?”

  Maybe he didn’t doubt me. “No. I don’t know who did. Someone hacked my account and posted it like it was me.”

  “And I assume that same person was the one who wrote those scathing messages to Sam?”

  A strange sensation stole over me. He believes me? I nodded.

  “Who would do something like that?” Jack asked.

  My heart pounded. He actually believes me? “I really have no clue. Sam’s sister? Delilah? I wouldn’t put it past Jerrick either. No one will admit it, so of course I’m the one to blame.”

  “You know, I was there when you and Sam got into that fight,” Jack said. “Saw how you grabbed her arm. I could see how desperate you were to get her to talk to you, and she turned around and pulled your hair, slammed you into the locker. Everyone else watching passed it off as you starting the fight. I’m sorry to say my two cents didn’t count for anything when I tried to tell the principal what I saw.”

  “I didn’t know you spoke up for me.”

  “Yeah, well, no one believed me. Probably didn’t help that I’d just gotten off an in-school suspension for getting into my own fight.” He gave me an apologetic smile.

  “Thank you,” I said. “It means a lot knowing there was one person in the world ready to defend me.”

  “What were you doing in Jerrick’s room in the middle of the night? I never for a second believed you were there for the reason he’d suggested.”