1 : Chapter One

Calaie (pronounced Kal-ee, and she had to do this every single time someone tried to read her name) leaned back against her bedroom window as she sat in the nook inside her bedroom. It often baffled people why her name was spelled in such a way, only to be pronounced in two syllables. 

"Your name looks longer than it sounds," was a common observation. Yes, well, she wasn't sure what was going on in her parents' heads the day they decided to name her so. Calaie could have told people to say her name a different way, but it just wasn't how it was pronounced. 

It was a slow Saturday afternoon. It was the kind of Saturday afternoon when everyone in the house just stayed indoors and do nothing despite the lightly warm weather outside. It was definitely a calm, boring weekend. 

Calaie strained to listen to the sounds inside the house and outside. She could see in her mind her father in the den, sitting on the couch, going through the sports section of the newspaper. When he didn't have the TV tuned into the latest football or baseball or basketball game, he was reading about it in the paper. Her mother was probably at the living room table, hunched over her latest diamond painting projects, poking at crystals and placing them slowly into the sticky-topped grid image of a flower or butterfly -- two of her latest obsessions. Her older brother Carson left the house right after breakfast. He was probably out playing ball with his friends, and wouldn't be back until dinner. 

No one -- with the exception of her brother -- had anything to do at all. 

Calaie sighed to herself. 

It wasn't that she didn't have any friends. She did. She was friends with her classmates, right? She swapped lunches with them sometimes and talked with them occasionally about random things. They'd ask for her help in Science class. And even if she found out about weekend parties or sleepovers that her classmates had when Monday rolled around, they would still talk to her, right? She was friends with them. That counted. Didn't it? 

No, she thought dejectedly. She didn't have an actual best friend. She didn't even have any real friends. They were just her classmates. 

She was sure by Monday, she would be hearing about how someone from class had a sleepover, and while no one really mentioned it, it seemed really glaring that Calaie was not invited. 

This is so boring. I don't want to keep sitting here doing nothing, Calaie thought to herself. That's it! she thought finally.  A trip to the rec center pool would be better than this. 

Calaie jumped off the loveseat and went to her closet to grab her backpack. She emptied the contents on her bed, dumping out her notebooks, her Science textbook, a composition notebook, some loose-leaf papers, several pens, and a half-eaten cupcake still in its wrapper. Calaei scrunched her nose at the cupcake, picked it up, and tossed it into her trash bin. 

For a moment, she stopped for a moment as she remembered she had a Science project due Tuesday. She thought momentarily about how they were told to pick a partner, but she decided to work on her own. She thought it worked well because the other person in their class was able to join another group, making them 3 in the group. It was not quite what their teacher wanted them to do, but allowed it anyway since the project didn't require that you have a partner, but it would have made the work easier.  

But right now, the pool seemed like a better choice because she figured she had the entire Sunday to work on that, and besides, she was seriously bored to death. A trip to the pool might kick some inspiration into her. She'd have to walk since Carson took the car earlier that day. Which was fine, Calaie thought, I need the walk. Help get some things off my mind.

Grabbing a bottle of sunscreen, her suit, a change of clothes, and a fresh towel from her closet, Calaie lugged her pack behind her and checked her phone once more before closing her bedroom door behind her. 

She trudged down the stairs, still listening for any sounds until she came into the living room, where she found her mother exactly where she thought she would be, working on a butterfly diamond painting. 

"Mom, I'm going out to the pool for a while," she said walking into the kitchen. 

"Okay, hon. Can you pick up some milk on your way back?" Her mom asked. 

"Okay," Calaie responded. "Bye, dad!" She yelled before walking out the front door and closing it behind her. 

Yes, that day indeed was a sunny day. Great for a swim in the pool, and the pool would be a great distraction for her to get her mind off her boredom and other thoughts that were beginning to creep in.

As she made her way down the walk, she noticed a couple people taking a jog with their dogs. She figured most of everyone was either indoors. Her classmates were probably hanging out at each other's houses, or at the mall, or at the movie theater. There was a new movie playing that week, and Calaie wanted to watch it. But she didn't want to watch it alone, and she wished she had someone to go with. She also wished she could just go to someone else's house and hang out. But it wasn't like she got an invite from anyone. 

As she walked down the street, she neared one of the houses where Odessa Miller, one of the girls from her classes, lived. She could hear voices and laughter coming from the backyard. 

Wow, another party, Calaie thought, as if wanting to avoid having to pass by the house altogether. How awkward it would be if someone from school came out and saw her, and would know immediately that she hadn't been invited. Or worse, they would think she was lurking. 

She kept her eyes on the side walk, willing herself to block out the voices and the laughter, and picked up the pace, determined to walk past without anyone knowing that she was in the vicinity of a possible party. 

She was almost past the house when at that moment, the front doors opened, and one of the guys from homeroom stepped out, along with two others. 

Calaie's heart jumped for a moment, almost stopping her in her tracks. It wasn't just any guy. It was Branden Finley, one of the hottest guys in the entire Marshall West High School. He was only a junior, but senior girls would always hang around him when they could. They would stop him in the halls between classes to try to talk to him, and during lunch, they would try to sit next to him. They would even take him out to lunch if they could get away with it. 

While she herself thought that Branden was very good-looking, and she did not want to admit to herself she had a tiny crush on him, talking to Branden Finley was like auditioning for The Bachelor. Everyone would always know which girls would go up to him to talk, which girls would sit down at lunch, or which girls would try to invite him to their party that weekend. Then they would rate the girl according to her looks, technique, and the length of time she would get to talk to Branden and his friends. 

Branden did not come without a set of good-looking friends either. Jesse Meyer and Dalton McKessen were another set of gorgeous looks. They were all teammates from the basketball team, and they had their fair share of girls trying to make it with them. 

Calaie did not need that kind of stress or attention in her life right now.  She liked Branden, but she knew it better to stay out of his sight. 

She kept her head down, and walked a bit faster in an attempt to get past Branden and his friends. As she did, Branden called out to her. 

"Hey, Calaie!" Branden said loudly. 

Calaie stopped in her tracks in surprise, and her eyes looking quite shocked shot up, meeting Branden's  eyes. For a minute, she stood like a deer in headlights, not knowing what to do, or how to act. She could feel her cheeks starting to get hot. 

Jesse and Dalton both paused behind Branden, and looked around him at Calaie, their brows slightly furrowed at the amusing, almost comical way she stopped. 

Say something!!! Calaie yelled in her brain, her cheeks starting to flush a bright red. "Erm, hey Branden," she croaked out before flipping her hair over her shoulder resolutely, and almost breaking into a run. 

Calaie could feel her heartbeat thumping wildly in her chest as she jogged away, practically sprinting away from them. 

She wasn't an introvert, and she certainly did not have an aversion to people. But when you're not exactly a mainstay in the high school slumber party, or weekend party scene, it's hard to not be recognized as such. 

Branden must think I'm pathetic. And his friends must think it, too. Calaie shook her head, hating that scene. She really, really needed a friend. Or maybe she just needed to move to a different school and start over. 

Calaie slowed down into a walk when she was sure she was about four houses away from Branden and his friends. She shook her hands, feeling tingles up and down. She could feel her head tighten a little bit. She hated having to overthink things. 

So what if Branden and his friends thought she was pathetic? Who cares? It wasn't like they could say anything that could change her already pathetic situation. 

Calaie turned her face up a bit as she felt a cool breeze touch her face. 

Sigh. Ever since she and her family to this place three years ago when she was in the 9th grade, it's been like this. She didn't have trouble during her first year. As a matter of fact, she had friends, she was invited to sleepovers, and parties. Calaie hung out with two girls in her class, Natalie Flemming and Caitlyn O'Hara. They each lived a block away from each other, and they would often hang out on Saturday mornings and then go to the pool to hang out some more. 

But during summer vacation, when Natalie and Caitlyn went off with their families vacationing abroad, Calaie was left alone with no friends to hang out with. She never really got the chance to get to know her other classmates, and she wasn't really invited to anyone else's slumber parties over the summer. It didn't occur to Calaie to get to know the neighborhood kids either. 

And ultimately, She didn't think that when they came back from summer vacation, they weren't going to pick up from where they left off.