The X-Wood Lighthouse by Evangeline Summers.
Just walking outside is hell. No clouds in the sky mean that you are an egg and the world is the frying pan. I recall reading an article on the web that all the AC units in Middletin are going out. Their hardware, unable to keep up with the sudden heatwave. The humidity makes my skin crawl as I stand amidst the bustling Subway, and the unfamiliar chatter rings in my ears. I stare at the blank screen of my phone, making the hardest decision of my life; who should I call?
Even though the police said that I'd be staying with the Millers, I have no intention of doing so. Dad and Carter are out of town, and I haven't heard from them ever since my birthday. He hasn't answered any of my calls or responded to any of my texts. It's almost as if he's been ignoring me- has he abandoned me?
Nope- it's probably just me being paranoid. I can pick the lock or smash a window and get into my house, but I'll end up starving to death or turning the house into something hazardous for humans. Something unlivable.
I can stay at the X-Wood Lighthouse. I found the key in my mother's wardrobe. It'll also be the perfect opportunity to snoop to my heart's content. However, there are dozens of problems.
1. I am a minor and cannot live without my guardian.
2. I don't know when my dad will return, and therefore I might run out of money and I don't want to starve to death in an abandoned Lighthouse. No one will find my dead body and I wanted a purple body bag.
3. If I don't arrive in Middletin, the Millers will panic and call the police.
4. I cannot have my face printed on 'Wanted' signs!
5. My mother isn't the only other person to have access to the Lighthouse. A mysterious Xander also does. If he enters the Lighthouse when I'd temporarily be residing there, I might get reported for trespassing. There was this whole article that popped up on Google which explained entering the Lighthouse is taboo for a bunch of reasons that I was too lazy to read.
I have no choice but to use my last resort. In my books, he's Lord Voldemort 2.0, he-who-shall-not-be-named. For five years, I've successfully avoided all contact with him, changed my number, blocked him from my social media accounts, and even went the extra mile to ensure my mother moved two blocks down the road so he couldn't send me any letters.
My thoughts instantly flicker to the blond boy. Will his hazel brown eyes still glimmer when he smiles? Are the dimples on the corner of his lips when he smiles still prominent as ever? Is he still the over-protective, calculating boy he was five years ago? Or has he significantly changed? A part of me is desperate to see him, and a part of me shuns the mere thought.
I spend ten more excruciating minutes contemplating whether or not I should reconcile with Chance or break into my house. All I have to do is endure it till my father returns. Staying under the same roof as Chance, how bad can it get? It's not like we'll accidentally end up lip-locked like the protagonists from a c-drama. People say that one day you'll have to face your past. If I knew it was going to be so soon, I would've done mountains of preparations. I let out a deep sigh.
However, on the bright side, staying with the Miller's does have it's perks. Mom and Cassandra were like sisters, she might be able to shed some light on the abduction or at least who the unknown figure behind Celeste Howard is from the graduation photograph.
The part that always leaves me perplexed is the clues I end digging up. It's almost as if mom planted them there purposely, knowing that I'd come to find her. She already knew her life was in grave danger, but how?
I let out a small cry as I collide into a wall, falling on the floor from the sudden impact, my poor butt. These days my life is just shrouded in misery. Max must've cursed me. I ended up losing a friend and a mother. Two spies from the TACAM joked about kidnaping me, I'll have to live under the same roof as my ex-best friend, and now my butt hurts!
I'm probably just using the breakup as a scapegoat, but whatever it is, I've decided not to spend another minute complaining about what my life could've been. Everything happens for a good reason. There must be a good reason behind that miserable chain of events.
I punch Chance's digits into my phone and patiently wait for him to answer. I'm not going to be doing anything I'll regret by calling him, right? I put the phone to my ear as I nibble on my nail in anticipation. The moment I hear muffled shuffling on the other end, I exclaim. "Hello! Am I speaking to Chance Miller?" I mentally curse myself for sounding overly-enthusiastic.
"Yes, may I know who this is?" He probably didn't expect this call -none of the Millers did, after all, I came earlier than expected. "Hello?" He inquires, and I bite my lip as I silently plead him not to put the phone down and block my number. "It's me, Evangeline Summers."
"Oh," He replies. From the tone to the word choice, he really didn't expect me to call him. Why would he? I gave him every reason not to. I declined his calls, read but didn't respond to his texts, and I even left him when he needed me the most. He's more than bewildered. He's angry and confused. Why did I make the first move this time? Because we're going to be housemates? Or is there honestly something more? "I apologize for arriving earlier than expected. Moms dead, dad is out of reach, and the Millers were the last resort."
He sarcastically chuckles, making me shudder. "How can I forget you? Friendships built with mutual love and trust can never break. Unless it's purposely broken because someone crossed the line," The hostility in his voice makes me gulp. He must loathe me for what I did. The worst part is, it's justified. Either way, our friendship isn't my main priority. Finding my mother is.
"How are you?" A strange feeling washes over me when those words tumble out. This conversation feels like that between two strangers on the bus, not former best friends, glued to the hip.
Silence ensues- the awkward kind, the kind when you're dancing to 'Positions' by 'Ariana Grande' in an oversized hoodie and your brother's guy friends randomly walk into your room.
"An odd question, how do you think I am?" A trick question? He seriously knows how to turn each question into a dagger that pierces your heart.
"G-Good?" Shoot- that sounds more like a question than an answer.
He erupts into fits of laughter and, I quizzically bite my lip. So all along, it was a joke? His tone, words, questions aren't daggers meant to murder me? It's just his way of teasing me. I click my tongue before my bottom lip juts out. "You A-Hole. I hate it when you tease me!"
As if it's possible, I hear him wiggle his eyebrows. "Girls always say things that contradict their thoughts. I know you love it when I tease the living daylights out of you."
I huff. "I have something important to tell you."
I hear him quieten. "Platform...." he trails.
"Nine and three quarters," I joke. "Platform two but, I'll wait by the parking lot.
"Be there in ten."
I plod to the exit, my stomach growling in the process. I should've bought something to eat on the train, but Chance should be here soon. It's a ten-minute drive from his place to the Subway. Lost in my thoughts, I collide into yet another wall and fall onto my butt. Again. Can I complain for a second about how much it hurts? Why are there so many walls in this place?
I wince as I try to get up, only to have my green orbs blinded by a dazzling light. I ogle at the out worldly being in front of me and discreetly touch my lips to make sure that I'm not drooling for, towering above me is the most gorgeous guy I've ever seen. Forget Zac Efron, Kim Tae Hyung, Jeon Jungkook, Cha Eun Woo, Logan Lerman, Dylan Wang, Darren Chen, Chris Hemsworth, Robert Downey Jr, Brad Pitt, and Shawn Mendes. I doubt they can even hold a candle to him. I overanalyze his features. Soft sandy blonde hair lays in a tousled mess with a few bangs falling into his eyes, ethereal blue eyes with specks of mikado, pink lips pulled into the perfect smirk and, a jawline sharper than any knife.
"Watch where you're going!" He snaps, and my brows shoot to my hairline. Wow! Here I thought he'd have a kind personality to complement his features. Normal guys would probably exchange apologies and help me up, but this guy is strange.
"Could you maybe watch where you're going," he repeats, and I ignore him before reaching for my bag. "No one would answer you with that attitude, so buzz off," I mumble under my breath. Don't test my patience! I'm currently starving, and when I'm hungry I'm deadlier than a wild animal.
"Are you deaf?" Uh-oh! This guy did not heed my silent warning. "I said- Could. You. Maybe. Watch. Where. The. Hell. You. Are. Going," he repeats slowly. I let out a huff, my tolerance running out. Is he for real? He bumped into me, didn't apologize, didn't help me up, and now he calls me deaf? What's his deal?
"First of all, I'm not deaf, and if I am saying it any slower wouldn't help me understand. Secondly, you were the one who walked into me. Thirdly, you owe me an apology," I flash him a satisfied smirk.
"Umm, I'm pretty sure you walked into me first," he says, taken back by my response. He probably expected me to say sorry, squeal, and runoff or blush and kiss his rude ass. My face morphs into one of confusion at his actions as he extends his hand to help me up. "What is it that makes you so different?" Is he thinking that I'll forget the stunt he pulled because he's helping me up?
"You mean why, I ain't blushing like crazy because you offered to help me up or why I haven't begged for forgiveness from you yet?" I sass, and his lips pull into a smirk. What? Is he a sadist who enjoys seeing other people annoyed? Or is he one of those strange pervs you'd find in a shady alley?
"Aren't you going to apologize?" I inquire, dusting the back of my shorts.
"I don't do apologies. How about compensations?" He suggests and, I knit my brows.
"I thought compensations and apologies are the same things."
He looks taken back for a second before a hint of mischief flashes through his now crystal blue eyes. When people experience extreme emotional change, their body releases a hormone that can change the hue of their eyes. Is he that taken back? It must be the first time a girl ever dissed him. "Are you flirting with me?"
I grimace. Me- and flirting- with him? "Nah, I'm just bored. . . and hungrier than a lion who only ate a baby cockroach for breakfast ages ago."
"I don't think lions eat cockroaches."
I dismissively wave my hand, our futile bickering beginning to bore me. "Whatever," I begin to walk away before he grabs my hand, yanking me back, a small cry falling from my lips. "Look, most girls like Lighthouses and corny stuff like that. So how about I take you there as compensation?" He offers and, I press my lips into a thin line feigning thoughtfulness. For fifteen years I've been taught never to wander off alone with strangers, accept treats and rides from them yet, here he is making such a shady offer. I'd probably give a million bucks to know what is going through his mind. Are there loose screws in his brain or corroded gears?
"How about no? Firstly, I don't need compensation. A simple apology will suffice. Secondly, I've been taught never to wander off alone with a stranger especially, if he's male! Thirdly, if I recall correctly, only Xander and Esmea Summers have access to the Lighthouse. I'm not in the mood to trespass and land up in jail." Another shady thing about him is the fact that he claims to have 'access' to the Lighthouse. Is he perhaps Xander? But he's so young. I thought Xander would be some old guy, with a long grey beard, skinny arms, wrinkled skin, and a bald head.
His eyes slightly widen in surprise before darkening in amusement. "It's Xander Bowmen."
I squint, confused. Is he Xander Bowmen? Or is the Lighthouse guy's full name: Xander Bowmen? I glance at my watch, mentally face-palming myself as I'd completely forgotten about Chance. I hope I didn't keep him waiting too long. "I've got to go," I mummer, beginning to pick up my pace before he yells. "Can I at least get your name?"
"Evangeline Summers," I shout back, turning my head around and allowing our gazes to meet once again. He waves goodbye and walks into a crowd of people, instantly disappearing. I nearly choke on air when I realize that I just gave a stranger my name. If he lives here, he should be present at the Bowmen Ball. The Bowmen Ball is a mandatory event held at the town hall each Summer to honor Middletin's founders: the Bowmens. My mother's abduction is also linked to this place, making the possible abductor present at the ball. That is if he or she resides in Middletin.
I scan the parking lot, hoping to catch a glimpse of Chance. I hope he's still recognizable. I fiddle with my phone, contemplating whether I should call him again. Maybe he left because I kept him waiting too long? Did we miss each other? I sigh in frustration as I begin to head back to the ticket booth only to collide into another wall -thankfully, this time, I don't end up on the floor with an aching butt- and have my belongings scatter all over the place.
I bend down to grab my phone and grimace at the cracked screen guard. As if exchanging formalities with a creep wasn't bad enough, my screen guard had to crack. I bend down to gather the scattered contents of my unzipped duffel bag. I failed to realize that someone was also collecting the scattered items until my fingers brush against his. My gaze instantly snaps to meet his, and my eyes widen.
Blond hair glimmering in the light, dimples as prominent as ever, and mischief filled brown eyes. "Chance," I whisper as he hands me my belongings while I gape in awe. Puberty had hit him like a mother fudging truck.
"Yeah."