From The Fallen Stars Read online

  “Sorry, that sucks, how do you know my age by the way?” I ask as we enter the kitchen and I walk to the fridge.

  “It’s a small town. Everyone has been talking,” he explains as I open the fridge, searching for a drink to offer him. It makes a lot of sense.

  “We only have lemonade or orange juice as my dad is at the store,” I tell him.

  “Orange juice would be great,” Landon replies, and I pull out the bottle. I find us two glasses and pour our drinks, before handing Landon his as he seems to be lost in thought.

  “So, what brings you to this place? We are literally in the middle of nowhere in the Lake district,” Landon asks me. I expected this question considering he said that no one new moves in here. It was a little random that my dad found this job. He said they emailed him with an opening and offered him an increased salary to move here.

  “My dad got a job at the local garage. So here we are. We used to live in London, but my dad lost his job after the accident,” I say.

  “Accident?” he asks, looking worried, but there is something in his expression that makes me doubt his worry. I don’t know what it is, but his concern seems insincere.

  “A car crash, we were both in it, and we are both fine now. My dad was just in the hospital for a while, and there wasn’t a job for him when he got out,” I explain.

  “Ah, well I’m glad you’re okay and your dad found this job. This town isn’t bad, just remote. We moved here a year ago,” he tells me. So, they aren’t that old to the town either. No wonder he wants to make a friend, he is practically the new kid as well.

  “Do your parents work here?” I ask him.

  “Nope. Our dad died before I was born, and our mum travels a lot for her job. We see her once a month, give or take,” he says, then flashes me a fake smile to hide the clear sorrow in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry about your dad,” I tell him, and place my hand over his on the counter for a second before moving it. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea, but I want to comfort him. It’s strange how comfortable I feel around him when usually it takes me ages to trust someone. Maybe that is just how Landon is, comfortable to be around.

  “Can I ask about your mum?” Landon asks. “Only I’ve just seen your dad coming in and out the house with you.”

  “She left us,” I whisper, and clear my throat when Landon stares at me silently for a while.

  “I’m sorry too then,” he says and then flashes me a sad smile. “Look at us, two teenagers with a messed-up parent situation. I have a feeling we were meant to be friends.”

  “Seems possible,” I grin back at him, and feel for the first time that I might be okay here.

  “So, how is unpacking going? Are you looking forward to school and the awful uniforms we have to wear?” he asks, reminding me of the fact I still need to log into the school website to find out what I’m even doing tomorrow.

  “I haven’t actually looked at the uniform yet, my dad bought it and boxed it up. Is it bad?” I ask as Landon laughs.

  “Yeah, it’s not great, but then blue was never my colour,” he says, winking at me. I go to reply when there is a loud knock at the door.

  “One sec,” I tell Landon as I put my drink down. I notice how Landon looks worried as I run to the door, but I don’t have a clue what he would be worried about. I doubt it’s my lack of understanding about the school uniforms. I swing the door open and freeze as I stare at the guy stood right in front of me with his arms crossed. I gaze at his muscular, lightly tanned arms and follow them up to his tight black shirt. The guy clears his throat, making me look up at his chiseled jaw. His dark blue eyes are narrowed on me like I just killed his goldfish or something. I look up at his black hair, which has the classic ivy league cut that most guys have these days and usually can’t make them look good. Yet it really suits him, and my hands twitch to touch his super soft looking hair. What bothers me most is how familiar he looks…yet I’ve never met him. I stay rooted to the spot as I gape at the stranger, trying to shake whatever this feeling is that is taking over. I almost feel like I want to step closer to him, despite the fact he looks like he wants to kill me. The guy mutters something I can’t hear under his breath and looks around me.

  “Landon, get your ass out here. I told you to stay away from here,” the guy shouts, his voice tense and somehow deeply seductive. Why is it so familiar? I feel like I’ve heard his voice before, but I just can’t place it. I stare up at the stranger, trying to figure it out as he completely ignores me like I’m not here.

  “I know you did, Maxx. I chose to ignore you,” Landon states, coming to my side and swinging an arm around my shoulders. “I made a new friend.”

  “You’re Maxx? Landon’s brother? You two look nothing alike,” I blurt out. They literally couldn’t look any more different. My comment only seems to make Maxx angry as he looks down at me like I’m a bug he wants to squish under his foot.

  “Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Freckles,” he says and then pauses when he sees my shocked face. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. I stay frozen to the spot as a flashback fills my mind. A flashback of the crash and knowing straight away that the voice was Maxx’s. He called me Freckles back then too.

  “Everything okay, Ura?” Landon asks, but I can’t stop looking at Maxx in shock as my heart pounds so loudly I can’t hear anything else but it. Maxx only gives me a frustrated expression for a brief second, before he blanks his expression and looks away from me at Landon.

  “Home, now. We need to have a chat,” he states.

  “I remember you,” I say, stepping back and shaking my head. Maxx, for only a second, has a brief flash of fear cross over his face before he cools the expression into indifference.

  “We haven’t met before,” he answers sharply, practically growling at me.

  “You called me Freckles before…” I whisper, knowing that memory wasn’t made up. This is why he feels so familiar, why his seductive voice feels like I’ve heard it before.

  “Look, crazy girl, we haven’t met,” Maxx chuckles, rubbing his face as his eyes search over my body. “You aren’t that memorable, but I’m sure I would remember the pink hair.” I ignore the blatant insult, even if it does hurt a little.

  “I’m not crazy, but you are a dickhead. I remember you speaking to me when—”

  “Clearly you are crazy then. Look, if this is some kind of pick-up line, I’m sorry to let you down. You aren’t my type,” he says, chuckling as he turns and walks away from me, and I resist the urge to find something to throw at the dickhead. Landon pats my shoulder as he steps out of the house.

  “I’m sorry for Maxx, and for the record, I know you aren’t crazy,” he tells me and seems like he wants to say more, but Maxx shouts his name once again. “See you at school tomorrow, Ura.” I watch as Landon runs down the steps after Maxx who storms across the street. I know I heard Maxx’s voice in the crash and how he called me Freckles. I couldn’t have just made that up in my head. Right? So, why would he deny being there? How much of a coincidence could it be that we happen to move right across the street from him now? Or I guess I could take the clearer route and just believe that I’m obviously going crazy. I close the front door and rest my back against it, knowing that I have no idea what to trust anymore.

  Chapter Three

  “Dear god, this is worse than I thought,” I mutter, looking at myself in the mirror as I pull on the blue checkered skirt, which is high to my waist and ends just below my thighs. I tuck in the white shirt, leaving a few buttons at the top undone before pulling my knee-high black socks on. I slide on my black ballet shoes and pull my freshly washed hair up into a ponytail, but because it’s so long, it falls to my mid back anyway. My pink hair doesn’t remotely go with the blue uniform, and I look like a character from a comic book. I look out the window at the pouring rain as I grab my blue blazer with the school crest on, wishing it wasn’t raining on the first day, but knowing it’s England and it always rains.

  I break down some of the empty boxes that I unpacked last night and leave them resting against the closed wardrobe, seeing I only have two boxes left to unpack now. My bookcase, now filled with my favorite paperbacks, sits next to my bed with its blue star sheets neatly pulled up. The sheets don’t match my pale cream curtains, so that’s something to buy if I save up. I guess I should look for a job in town, something I could do after school and bring in some extra money. I check my blue school rucksack to make sure I’ve got everything I need before running out the room and down the stairs. I blink in surprise that all the boxes are unpacked, and the living room looks like home with everything set up. My blue cuddle blanket is resting over the couch, and there are white cushions on the sofa too. The TV is set up on the cabinet, doors open so I can see all our favorite DVDs in there. Dad has even had time to put a mirror up on the wall and lay down a rug. It’s funny how personal touches can make even a creepy, old house like this feel like home. I drop my bag by the front door before walking into the kitchen. Dad has been at work in here too. The counters are now cobweb free—thank god—and everything is clean with a nice shine to it.

  “Morning. Did you sleep well?” Dad asks as I sit down at the kitchen table opposite him and start buttering the toast he has made for me. I haven’t seen dad in his usual garage work uniform in a long time, and I smile to myself that this is a sign things are going in the right direction for us.

  “Not exactly, the house makes a lot of weird noises,” I say, grumbling a little because I am tired. If it wasn’t the house keeping me awake, it was the scary dreams of blue lights and someone whispering my name. But I’m not mad enough to tell dad that. I haven’t slept well since the crash, not with the memories I relive in my dreams.

  “You will get used to it. N
ew houses are always like that,” he says, waving a hand as I eat my toast.

  “I’m sure I will, or buy some earplugs,” I say, and he chuckles.

  “Are you nervous for school?” Dad asks me as I pour myself some water from the jug on the table. I drink some before answering him, just so I have time to think it over.

  “Kinda?” I hedge and pause. “Half of me is nervous because it’s a new school and they likely have all made friends already. The other half of me isn’t that bothered as it’s only one year there and I go off to university.”

  “A very mature way to think about it,” dad says and smiles at me.

  “I’m really just hoping they have a swimming pool in town and maybe a swimming team at school,” I say because I love to swim, and by the happy glint in my dad’s eyes, he is thrilled I am going to go back to swimming. I used to win awards, train and swim all the time before the crash, but then everything was just frozen as I waited for my dad to get better and dealt with the therapists that told me everything I remembered from the crash wasn’t real. I would like to get back into things I loved to do, get back to being me again. I can’t let the past haunt me forever. Yesterday made me realize that it’s likely I made up the things I remember from the crash, and Maxx is just a stranger. It wouldn’t make any sense for him to lie to me about that, and it makes more sense that this is all in my head. This move is a fresh start, a new chance for us, and I have to move on from the past. I mean, I can’t make the glowing swirls disappear, but I can ignore them.

  “I know this is a struggle for you…moving here and dealing with everything that has happened in the past. First with your mum leaving, then the crash…well, this is not the teenage years I wanted for you,” he suddenly says, putting his drink down and looking across the table at me. “I want you to have a normal year, no drama or problems. I want you to have fun, relax, make friends and generally do what teenagers do.”

  “It’s not your fault about everything that happened, and I will be okay, dad. This town is a new start,” I say firmly.

  “It’s my job to protect you, and I want this to be a fresh start. Okay?” he asks, and I nod, which seems to relax him enough to end the conversation. We quickly clean up the plates before locking up the house and running out in the rain to the car. Dad starts the car and pulls out the drive, and I notice that the car in Maxx’s and Landon’s drive is still there. I wonder how they get to school, or if they are just planning on being late on the first day.

  “There is a local bus that collects you there,” Dad says, pointing at a bus stop at the end of our road. “After today, you will need to catch the bus. The garage wants me in at six, and we need the extra hours.”

  “Got it. I don’t mind the bus,” I say. “I will find the times out online later.” Dad nods at my response and drives us down the long road that leads through the center of town. The town isn’t big, with maybe ten shops and restaurants and a cinema. The school is on the other side of town to us, just on the outskirts really. Dad drives into the busy car park where students are quickly running from their cars to the entrance to get out of the pouring rain. I look up at the grey stone school building, with ten windows on each of the two levels, old style fixtures, and trees surrounding the sides, blocking my view of any further buildings. There is a sidewalk of grey stone steps that leads to an archway entrance and big brown wooden doors, held open as students run in.

  “Good luck!” dad says as I undo my seat belt and meet his worried eyes. “I don’t know what time I will be back tonight, I will get off on my break to pick you up from school.”

  “But then when will you eat?” I ask.

  “That doesn’t matter,” he huffs in response.

  “Right, I can get the bus home. If I get lost, that is what Google Maps are for,” I say, patting my bag where my phone and my purse are. Dad had given me cash and a debit card with emergency cash on it in case something goes wrong.

  “Are you sure? It’s your first day,” he says. “I feel like I should pick you up.”

  “Yes, I’m sure. I’m seventeen, not a baby. I can catch a bus,” I remind him, and he chuckles.

  “Alright, alright. But I want a text when you get home, so I know you’re back safely,” he tells me.

  “Sure,” I say, rolling my eyes at him before getting out of the car. I run up the steps, trying to make sure I don’t slip as it feels like something I would do. I slow down when I get inside the arch, wiping some of the rain off my face. Damn, I need an umbrella, which is in one of the boxes somewhere.

  “Ura!” I hear my name shouted behind me, and I turn just as Landon comes running over out of the rain. Landon has a blue blazer on, a white shirt tucked into black trousers. The uniform actually suits him. He runs a hand through his wet hair, which has lost all the spikes now it’s damp. I smooth down my own hair while I think about it. I know it’s pointless as the rain will make my hair frizzy no matter what I do.

  “Hey! It’s nice weather today, isn’t it?” I lamely joke, but Landon laughs anyway as he wipes rain off his face.

  “Yeah, we tried to wait for it to pass, but we get bad storms, so there wasn’t much chance of that,” Landon explains, and I notice his use of ‘we’ just as I see Maxx walking up the steps. He isn’t running like everyone else, in fact he doesn’t even seem to care that the rain is pouring down on him. Maxx has a leather jacket on, a white shirt that dips to show off the top of his chest and black trousers. The outfit only makes him look more damn sexy, and I wonder where his blazer is. I notice three other girls all staring at Maxx, and I follow their gaze to see the way the water drips down his face and how his wet shirt sticks to his impressive chest as it goes see-through due to the rain. I completely get why any girl would stare. When I meet Maxx’s eyes, he narrows them, and I can practically see the annoyance in the way his body goes tense when he sees Landon next to me.

  “Don’t say you’re another girl that drools over my brother,” Landon states with a groan, snapping me out of it and making me feel silly for staring. I have to close my mouth from the fact I was gaping.

  “Sorry, your brother freaks me out a little,” I say.

  “Sure, that’s it,” Landon laughs and links his arm in mine, leading me down the corridor. “You need to be a better liar than that if you want anyone to believe you.” I ignore his statement as I stare at the dark wooden corridors with dozens of white wood doors littered down them. In the middle of the corridor, there are three glass cabinets showcasing awards, photos of students and trophies, but there isn’t much else to look at. We get to the end of the corridor which opens up into the dining hall with archway doors to a courtyard just outside. I try to remember looking at the map last night and where everything is, but it doesn’t look like the map at all.

  “I have science first, which way is that?” I ask Landon.

  “I’ll show you around today, don’t even worry about it. This school is a maze, but once you get used to your rooms, it will be easier,” he tells me, filling me with relief.

  “What about your classes?” I ask.

  “I will explain that I’m showing you around,” he grins. “Don’t worry.” I smile back at Landon as he leads me to the right and down another corridor which has four girls stood together, watching Landon and me. They look almost fearful, and it confuses me. As we walk past them, I briefly catch one of their fearful whispers.

  “Another one of them is here, and who knows who will go missing next!”

  Chapter Four

  “Aura Scott, right?” a middle-aged woman asks after I walk into the classroom, pushing the creaky door shut behind me. Does this whole town creak with old age? How do people get used to it? I turn to face the woman who pushes her glasses up from where they have fallen down her nose and raises a bushy black eyebrow at me. She has fuzzy black hair that is pulled up into a messy bun, dark skin that matches her brown pencil skirt. She has a crinkled white shirt tucked into the skirt, and it has the school logo embroidered on it.