SILVER CREST HIGH SERIES
BOOK ONE
HIS GIRL
BY
LYN MONREAL
PROLOGUE
There once was a boy with a smile so enticing you couldn’t tell the troubles he’d wade through in this ocean of life. And there was a girl; so caught up in the beauty of his smile like it was the only thing holding her off the brink of insanity.
CHAPTER ONE
Ella
Life is such a metaphor; one impossible to decipher its exact meaning. You think you have finally figured it all out and then suddenly the pieces of it disperse to form a new puzzle for you to figure out. I have come to accept life as it is and maybe that's why I never expect much; not even from myself. But despite all the unpredictability of life and my endless desire of not expecting , there is one thing I long for. Whether day or night, cliche as it may sound, I long to have that someone I could call mine. You know, that one cute teenage love story you’ll one day brag about to your grandkids on a cold winter night by the fireplace. Is there someone I’m very much attracted to? Yes and if you saw Adam Jackson smile, you’ll understand why but I’m also very much aware he is way off my reach. Sometimes I tend to believe that his smile is the one thing that keeps me from falling off the edge of sanity. Well, that and my best friend Rita. And like in every cliche romance novel to ever exist, he isn’t aware of my existence but maybe that is the beauty of it all. If he remains inherently unaware of me, then that doesn’t ruin the image of him in my head. I don’t dream of dating him- although I’ve played off more than a few scenarios of that in my head. In ways he doesn’t know, that smile of his, is what gets me through the worst of the days. Maybe that is why this biology class sucks. You know, because he is not in it.
I sigh for probably the hundredth time, twisting the pen in my hand while trying to resist the intermittent urge to throw the chewed gum at the teacher’s face. Don’t get me wrong. Mrs. Bethany is a total sweetheart; at least on a quarter of the school days when she is not busy filling the detention roster. But it has been almost ten minutes since the ding of the school bell propagated through the brick walls of Silver Crest Falls High. Someone kicks my right foot from under the desk and my gaze shoots up to the culprit who holds the same frustrated look as me.
“Kill me now,” She mouths, not bothering to hide the displeasure in her voice and expression. Rita has been my best friend since the day I moved into the small town of Silver Falls with parents from New York and I love her to death. Every mischief and detention we have gone through together and I have a pretty good feeling that we’d both end up alone with a thousand cats and telling each other stories of the good old days and the boys we should have made a move on.
I glance at Mrs. Bethany, very much surprised at her obliviousness. Was she not getting the hint that more than half the students were only thinking of storming out of class at the moment just from the shuffling of feet? Well, clearly not. She drones on for five more minutes about the upcoming halloween party tomorrow night. When she is done, the instant clomping of feet follows as students spill out of the classroom into the almost deserted hallway, save for a couple of after school club members.
“What are we wearing tomorrow?” Rita leans against my locker, eyes hovering over a group of passing football jocks obviously off to practice.
“Seriously? You know every year we go as a banana,” I shook my head, locking my locker as I slung my backpack over my shoulder.
“You know if you actually try to be a little more creative, perhaps go with a little sexy pirate, Adam might actually notice you,” Rita jokes.
Of course she would find every reason to tease me about Adam. More than half the girls in my class have found him to be extremely attractive and it doesn’t help that he happens to be very kind. And damn me for never getting over my crush on him since eighth grade when he was a mere scrawny kid with an avid interest in nature, moving into our small, sleepy town all the way from manhattan. Ever since he joined the basketball team last year, more girls seem interested in him.
“Right. Because people like Adam only notice girls when they are dressed all slutty,” I stopped the urge to roll my eyes as I pushed my hands inside the pockets of my washed out jeans.
“Well, I said sexy, not slutty. We seriously need to get into some relationships before we end up with no cute high school love stories to tell our future grandkids,” She hits me playfully on the arm, motioning with a slight flicker of her chin, “Oh, and there is your prince charming. Does he even know you work at his father’s bookstore?”
And right in front of us, the boy whose smile only resides in my dreams, strides the hallways with his two best friends; Jax and Dylan and they are laughing about something. His smile. His f*****g smile. He has no idea how much life that smile brings to me.
“Nope. He doesn’t even know my name,” I roll my eyes this time, reality setting back on me when a girl blocks my view, stopping in front of him and leans into kiss him on the lips, “ I wish I was that girl,”
Mia Hudson, only child of the loveable mayor of our little hilly town and forestry paths. She is the girl boys wished they could get with and girls secretly wanted to be like. Me included. Very gorgeous, knew how to dress and she could eat a whole bull and still not gain a single pound. Trust me, I have seen her lunch tray. Her grades weren’t a laughing joke either, making her the only other person to compete for valedictorian with Dax, Jax's twin brother. She is the literal opposite of me. I’m barely hanging close to the bottom of the class. Maybe I did something extremely terrible in my past life. Oh, did I mention she has that perfect family I only dream of?
“Don’t we all?” Rita agrees as we walk by the happy couple before swinging into her father’s old jeep.
When I say old, I mean that it usually takes a couple of tries before we eventually get it to run and today is no different. Rita drops me off at the bookstore I work in before she drives off to her mother’s bakery. The Jackson Bookstore which lies on the corner of Caden street, has an antique architectural design with high glass windows sitting on the ochre red brick walls, exactly three blocks down my favorite saloon. Mrs. Peter, the owner of the saloon, waves at me and I return the favor before she resumes braiding her client’s hair. When I walk in, my co-worker Petra is practicing her dance moves for the upcoming town’s talent show. Her efforts make me smile and I stand for a minute by the door, watching her while fighting the nostalgia hitting every corner of my stomach.