The Awakener



  Amanda Strong

  Clean Teen Publishing

  For my husband, Josh,

  You caught the vision of this book

  And helped me run with it!

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The Awakener

  Copyright © 2013 by: Amanda Strong

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address:

  Clean Teen Publishing

  PO Box 561326

  The Colony, TX 75056

  www.cleanteenpublishing.com

  For more information about our content disclosure, please utilize the QR code above with your smart phone or visit us at www.cleanteenpublishing.com.

  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

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  A locker clanged behind Eden just as someone shoved her elbow, knocking the folder from the crook of her arm. Papers flew from the pockets, fluttering to the ground, and then kicked along by the sea of teenagers.

  “Oh geez, sorry,” a boy said over his shoulder. He was gone before she could even tell what color his hair was. She stooped, retrieving her class schedule, school map, emergency contact sheet, and other forms from the office for her parents to sign and return. Straightening up, she glanced one last time at her schedule before tucking it in her jeans pocket. First trig- and then Biology. On second thought, she pushed the map into her pocket too. Just in case. Bon Air High’s a lot bigger than Portsmouth.

  “Hey, watch it, man,” a boy crowed. Two boys began scuffling and, anxious to avoid having her belongings knocked to the floor again, she quickened her pace. As much as she wanted to blend in, standing inches above those around her made it difficult. Avoiding eye contact, she maneuvered through the crowd, determined to reach her destination. She couldn’t help but notice how plain her white Keds were compared to the fuzzy, knee-length boots on the two girls in front of her. The giggling girls reached their lockers, and the view in front of Eden temporarily cleared.

  She bit the inside of her cheek, the instinct to duck behind the two girls intense. Spine tingling with adrenaline, she pushed her glasses up. Down the corridor, sandwiched between two girls and a guy, was her childhood best friend, Micah. Though no longer a lanky boy, she still recognized his light blue eyes. The mop of black hair he had as a kid was now short, a little longer than a buzz. Eden was drawn to his smile, even if it was meant for the blonde girl at his side. A good foot shorter than him, the girl craned her neck up as she wrapped an arm around his waist. Has to be his girlfriend. A stocky, jock-type boy with chestnut-brown hair and a tan girl with jet-black hair stood next to them. The jock slugged Micah’s shoulder as his bellowing laugh made its way down the hall to Eden.

  Then the scene was gone as jeans and a myriad of different colored t-shirts blocked her view. She sucked in a deep breath, her lungs burning from holding it too long. Sweat was beading at the top of her forehead as she prayed she could pass Micah’s entourage unnoticed. If I can’t see him, he can’t see me either, right? She hoped.

  The staircase loomed nearer. I’m going to make it, she thought, wishing the kids in front of her would move faster.

  “No way, dude. Coach always gives you the ball, Micah,” a male voice boomed.

  Eden glanced over. Micah’s group was directly left of her now.

  He hasn’t noticed me, just keep moving, she told herself.

  Face ducked down, she lifted her leg up, only to have her foot land sideways and to the left. Her weight uneven, she feared toppling over, but a pressure on her left side held her up. Confused, she again attempted to move away, only this time, her body made a ninety-degree turn, bringing her a foot away from the blonde girl.

  Horrified, Eden’s legs stepped one in front of the other, heading straight towards Micah. Within seconds, she stood dead center, stopping his small group of friends short. Sky-blue eyes swam in front of her vision before she was lunging forward, throwing her arms around his neck, hugging him.

  Funny the things you notice in a moment of sheer humiliation, she thought, as time dropped into neutral, prolonging her torture.

  There was a hiss-like sound from the short blonde. Yep, definitely his girlfriend.

  A male was chuckling. Not Micah. Must be the jock.

  Arms wrapped around her, hugging her back. Oh my gosh!

  She shifted her weight back, trying to detangle herself from Micah’s arms. Pulling her face away from his neck, the memory of his scent automatically tucked away in her mind, she met Micah’s raised brow line, wide eyes, and even wider grin.

  “Eden? Is that you?” he asked, as they separated further.

  Aware his hands still held her forearms, she was forced to remain and maintain eye contact. She nodded, terrified to speak.

  “Wow! How the heck are you? It’s been forever!” Though his face appeared delighted, she couldn’t help but notice how un-delighted his girlfriend was, as her amber eyes glared up at her.

  Unfazed, Micah continued, “My dad told me your dad got hired on at his firm. That’s awesome! So, did you guys move back then?”

  Again she nodded, hoping Micah would realize he was still holding onto her. What’s wrong with me? Running up and hugging him!

  “What’s it been four, five years?” he asked.

  Deciding his friends might think her a mute, she answered, “Five.” Her mouth was so dry her upper lip got caught on one of her braces as she spoke. She licked her lips, pulling her mouth shut.

  Micah didn’t seem to notice but the tan girl did and smirked.

  “Yo, Micah, are you going to introduce us or what?” the big guy asked.

  “Oh, yeah, sorry guys. This is Eden. We grew up next door to each other, best friends our whole lives.” Micah’s eyes danced with pleasure. He gestured to the jock. “This here’s Chase, his girl Willow, and Megan,” there was the slightest hesitation, “my girlfriend.”

  At the word girlfriend, Micah’s blue eyes registered something and he released Ede
n’s arms.

  She gratefully let them drop to her sides. “Nice to meet you.”

  Willow cocked an eyebrow at her, her icy-blue eyes sweeping up and down Eden’s frame as she twirled a lock of her black hair between two fingers. “Where’d you move from?” she asked.

  Eden tried to answer under Willow’s icy stare, but her voice cracked.

  Micah jumped in. “Portsmouth, wasn’t it? That’s where your dad got work after—” he stopped, searched her face, and then glanced at his friends.

  Oh gosh, he’s embarrassed by me!

  “I, I have to go, get to class,” she said, sidestepping, tugging at her backpack.

  Micah frowned. “Do you need any help? Know where you’re going?”

  Her eyes were stinging. Not now, please not now. She hated her overactive water works. She waved, saying, “Yeah, I’m good, thanks,” and shuffled away.

  “It’s sweet you’re back,” Micah called out.

  She peeked back. Megan was scowling at her from behind Micah.

  “Yeah, see ya.” She slipped into the throng of almost-tardy kids. She had barely ascended the steps and darted into the classroom when the bell shrilled.

  Spying the only free seat on the opposite side of the room, she hurried across, aware of gawking eyes. In the second to last row, three seats back, she sank down into the chair, sliding her backpack to the floor.

  “Mr. Giles’s not going to like you, you know,” a boy to her left leaned over and whispered.

  She wanted to ignore him, but his emerald-green eyes were startling bright and so close.

  “Whatever, Andrew,” the redheaded girl to her right whispered.

  “Ah-hum,” the teacher coughed.

  Eden snapped to attention.

  “Are you a transfer student?” Mr. Giles asked, holding the roll in hand, his bald head reflecting the overhead lights.

  “Yeah, from Portsmouth High.”

  “I need your name,” Mr. Giles said, apparently not caring where she’d come from.

  “Oh, sorry, Eden McCarthy.”

  “Ok, I assume you were given the right textbooks at the office. We’re now halfway into the school year. You missed the final before Christmas break.” There were a few grunts of ‘so not fair’ and ‘lucky you’. Mr. Giles’s stare silenced them. “I’ll get you a syllabus at the end of class to get you up to speed.”

  She nodded, anxious for everyone’s eyes to be elsewhere. Mr. Giles walked away, methodically taking roll.

  “He’s the worst teacher ever,” the redheaded girl muttered.

  Eden’s face flushed, afraid the teacher might overhear.

  “I’m Jessie, by the way,” the girl said, offering a hand. “So, from Portsmouth, huh? Navy brat or something?”

  “No, my dad switched jobs.” She shook the proffered hand as inconspicuously as she could.

  “So, where’s your family’s mansion?” Jessie asked.

  “I, we don’t live in one. I live in Sturbridge.”

  “A townhome baby like me.” Jessie smiled. “We’re neighbors.”

  She smiled back. “Really? Cool.”

  “I can tell I’m going to like you,” Jessie announced, receiving a stern shh from Mr. Giles and snickers from other students.

  Eden sunk deep into her seat, ready to be buried in her comfort zone of solving math equations.