Chapter 1
Moving Day
I am flying. I can feel it. The wind is blowing across my face and flowing through my hair. I can smell the salt of the ocean, but it’s so cold. There is no sun here, just darkness.
“Who cares?” a voice whispers. I open my eyes. Below me the wave’s crash on the sand as the moonlight illuminates them, ships and docks glow making it all seem so far away. This is the joy of flight.
“How?” The voice whispers again in my head. I turn my head to look behind me. In the corner of my eye, I catch sight of the tip of a white feather. Wings I wonder? A loud buzzing fills my head. It becomes louder and louder until it overpowers all of my other senses. Closing my eyes against the pain, I cringe and tuck my knees to my chest; my white wings cover me as I begin to fall. Feathers rip from my wings as unbearable agony tears a scream from my chest. The only other sound is the roar of the wind in my ears. As I hurdle faster toward the ever advancing sea, my wings wither into nothing. Then, silence. My head throbs and something hard and cold is pressed against my cheek. I slowly open my eyes. Comic books, that’s the first thing I see.
“Bree!” my mother yells up the stairs. Having just fallen off my bed, of course she heard me from downstairs. Pushing myself up from the floor, I call out to her. “I’m alright!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes mother, I’m fine. Just had a little trouble with the blankets this morning”
“Ok, when you are ready I’ve got breakfast almost finished.” My dream comes rushing back to my mind. The smell of the sea, the rush of the air, it all seemed too real. I walk in front of the mirror on my closet door just a few feet away from my bed. My long, and usually straight, blonde hair is in knots on top of my head, understating the term ‘bed head’. My 5’8 frame makes my sweats seem way too baggy and my T-shirt is falling off to one side. Honestly I still have drool coming off of the side of my lip. I groan inwardly. Looking around me I notice everything is still in order. All of my belongings, everything I hold dear, sit in boxes near my door. The last things to pack are my sheets and bedclothes. Moving is a lot harder than I originally thought. New York is going to be very different though than it is here.
Suddenly I hear claws scraping hardwood and quickly approach my bedroom. Next thing I know I’m slammed to the floor and crushed by a sixty-two pound husky who then proceeds to lick me persistently across my face. While calming him down I notice all of his winter fur has shed from his coat. Not to mention someone has also trimmed his claws and the fur around his paws. My usually wild looking husky now stands like he has been pampered like a prized poodle. When I found max he was just a pup outside my home. In Minnesota it’s not that uncommon. My mother and I brought him in and nursed him from milk bought at the vet down the road, there Miss. Ann helped me get him healthy and give him his shots. I went to look for his mother once but to no avail. Now at four years old he stands at two and a half feet tall. His eyes seem so intelligent with the brightest blue irises.
Max perks his ears up before darting out of the room. Guess mom made bacon. Grabbing my clothes I head to the shower. Once inside I let the hot water wash my worries away along with the last remnants of my now forgotten dream.
After getting dressed and spending almost an hour in the bathroom, which is not hard to do when your hair looks like a bat straight out of hell, I make my way down to the living room. My mom greets me with a smile in the kitchen, “good morning, I made you some breakfast.”
“mmmm.. bacon and eggs.”
“Don’t forget the pancakes”
“Trust me i won’t.” Not being able to restrain myself any longer I dig into my food. “I had no idea I was so hungry. “ I laugh.
“Fighting the sheets just might stir up an appetite. “ Mom laughs and starts to hand bacon down to max. Who, for once, is eager to eat the greasy meat. Lately he has been more relaxed and has started to enjoy things that he seemed too proud to enjoy. Maybe it’s just my imagination but he has always been a strange dog. “Are you all packed up?” mom adds looking at me curiously.
“mmhm”
“mumbling through food again, I swear i taught you manners.” uh oh, i know that look.
‘Of course I have manners. I just misplaced them at the moment.’ I think to myself. After swallowing I try again. “Yes, now I’m just waiting for some help loading a-“Just then the doorbell rang. “coming!”
As mom went to check who was at the door i watched as max stood on his back legs and sniffed the air. At once his ears relaxed and he laid back down seeming pleased with himself. I wink at him. “Know something i don't know?” All he does is huff at me. I can just hear him thinking; duh, but like i'd tell you..
“whats up small fri”
“Hey Caleb, terrorize any neighborhoods lately?” He glares and sits at the bar stool next to me. “If you keep that up even ogres will run from you, you know?”
“Ok Bree, you win.”
“So is Caleb helping you load everything?” mom asks walking back into the kitchen.
“Yeah, it’s a condition of him coming with me, he has to put everything where it goes.”
“That’s just because you're lazy Bree.”
“And?” I huff. “At least I admit it!”
“Okay, I’ll start moving things.” he laughs and starts to get up. “Where is everything anyway?”
“It’s all in my room.” I think for a moment then Jump out of my seat and dash up the stairs taking two at a time. I yell out as I pass him on the stairs. “On second thought I’ll get it!” Once in my room i slam the door shut while leaning against it. “..Phew.” Caleb is my best friend but it would be weird for him to be in my room with all of my clothes from this morning still on the floor. We have known each other since the second grade. Even Though he has changed a lot, and by changed i mean girls faint whereas they used to run when he looks at them, to me he still seems like that annoying kid that helped me when i was little. I walk away from the door and start to put everything that’s left into boxes. While i do I think about how me and Caleb met.
Back then I was only seven and had just moved to Minnesota from Romania. As a foreigner, many kids were very afraid of me. They would pick on me and tease me, that is if they talked to me at all. One day as someone picking on me. A little boy, whose name I’d forgotten, saw them pull my hair and tell me i should go back where i came from. His big brown eyes seemed to instantly fill with anger. He walked up to us and pushed the little boy away and just stared at him, everything about him screamed stop. Much to my confusion, the bully got up and apologized to him, and to me. After Caleb helped me up he said something I would never forget, he said ‘Hi my name is Caleb, and you don't have to worry about things like that anymore, I’ll always protect you.’ For some reason this completely calmed me, after that we became inseparable. Even all throughout Middle school he was always protecting me. Around eighth grade I started to take defense classes because I was so tired of him protecting me all the time. The funny thing is now we spar almost every chance we get, and I still can’t beat him. He is better than me in every way but we have always treated each other as equals.
Now as two High School graduates we couldn't be any less inseparable than we were then. Only real difference is, he became a heartthrob and i became a geek. With his long shaggy hair and a body that looks like it was carved by gods, not that i staire. It would be hard to not want to get attached. I dont mean that in a bad way though, its just a fact. Anyone would say yes to a date with him if asked. Me? I’d rather play dragon age while wrapped up in a blanket and a beanie.
“You ok in there?” Crap. He is right outside my door. Picking up the last remaining items and shoving them in a box i open the door for him.
“You can take these boxes and the ones over there and meet me at my truck.”
“But that’s like eight boxes-”
“Then you better start picking them up.” I smile at him, intending to look crazy.
“Sometimes Bree, you really scare me.”
“that’s the point Caleb.” He smiles and grabs a few boxes in his arms. I, wanting to help of course, start stacking boxes on top of the ones he is already holding. Unfortunately he is 6’2 so I run out of arm length before I get to his head. “Be careful going down the stairs, I don’t want to go to the E.R. today. While you put those in my truck” I hand him the keys “ill put max in his dog crate so leave room in the back seat ok?”
Chapter 1: Moving day1