Obscured (The Obscured Series Book 1)

Obscured

C.M.
BOERS

Copyright © 2014
C. M. Boers

All rights
reserved.

ISBN:

978-0-9906452-1-4

DEDICATION

This
book is dedicated to my family and friends, without them I would never have
decided dedicate my time and effort to write and publish this book.

      
This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places
and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I
would like to thank all of my friends and family that had a hand in helping
make this book what it is today. I would also like to thank all of my readers.
Thank you for taking time to read my book.

CHAPTER ONE

My
breathing is ragged. The vast desert surrounds me the further I run. Terror
grips every ounce of my body. The slowly rising darkness does little to cool
the sweltering heat; it only seems to add to my panic. Sweat pours down my back
and my t-shirt sticks. Darkened saguaros spring up on the horizon as the sun
descends from its rightful place in the sky
.
The blackened sky has yet to reveal the
twinkling gems of the night. Tactfully, I maneuver around the bushes and shrubs
until a clearing suddenly appears. I take the opportunity to sprint faster. As
the dust from my footfalls envelopes me, a coughing fit ensues as my lungs
involuntary attempt to clear themselves.

I
shot straight out of bed, gasping for air. Each time the dream became more real
than the last. It began shortly after I learned we were moving to Arizona, and
it had grown increasingly more prevalent. The torment was always the same. I am
in the desert running and scared—but of what? My hope was the dreams would go
away after we got settled in Arizona, but after a full week nothing had
changed. 
  

We
moved from beautiful Los Angeles, California to the deadening heat of Phoenix,
Arizona. Why? Well, I can thank my mom for that one. After the divorce, she
said we needed a change, a clean slate if you will. And of all places she could
have chosen, she very well may have picked the hottest.

The
first day at a new school is bad enough, but the first day at a new school in a
new
town
is absolutely terrifying. On top of that, I had just turned 16
and was starting high school. High school, for goodness sake! 

My
name is Abigail Martin, but everyone calls me Abby. Tomorrow will be the first
day of pure torture when I start at Kinsley High School. My stomach was a
jumble of nerves thinking about it.

“Abby,
your dad is on the phone for you,” my mom called up the stairs.

Rounding
the corner, I saw my mom at the bottom of the landing. It was hard not to
admire her beauty. My mom has exquisitely beautiful hair, which happens to be
just like mine—long, brown and curly. I get my looks from her and most people
say they can’t see any of my dad’s features in me. Mom and I share the same
blue eyes and she is short like me, however, thanks to my dad I have a slight
height advantage.

I
knew my dad was calling to check-in and make sure we were doing okay. I had to
give him credit for being so tough throughout the whole ordeal. I mean, his
only child moved six hours away; that was sure to be hard on anyone. I wouldn't
tell him, but things were a lot harder than I’d like to admit. I really missed
him. There was nothing I would love more than to move back to California and
pretend that none of this ever happened.

I
spent my last day of summer decorating my new room. The curtains on my window
were pastel blue, which matched the rest of the chocolate brown and pastel blue
décor in my room. The last touch was a few pictures hung on the walls.

Preparing
for school should have been my next priority. Instead, I was enjoying my last
bit of freedom relaxing in my new bedroom. From my window I was able see the
beautiful sunsets that Arizona is known for. The horizon was a magnificent
orange, and the sky above it was saturated like a pink, red and purple
watercolor painting. The sun was half way out of view, brightly glowing orange
in the midst of all the color. Even though these sunsets wouldn’t compare to a
sunset on the beach, the rich colors in them made them glorious in their own
way. Suddenly the sun disappeared, leaving night to descend over the valley.

 I
grabbed a picture of my mom, my dad and I on the beach and climbed in bed. I
fell asleep staring at my past, unsure of my future. However, it was time for
me to move on, as my mom said, and embrace this new life. But was I ready for
that?

The
next morning, I awoke drenched in sweat once again. My nightmares still hadn’t
subsided; in fact, it seemed as though new details revealed themselves each
time. This time I was sure I had been running away from someone, but I was
unable to see whom it was. The last thing I remembered before waking up was the
darkened figure trailing behind me. I briefly wondered if I’d ever get to the
end of the dream and discover what I was actually running from. I had my
doubts.

After
rummaging through the boxes on the floor, I finally found an acceptable outfit
for my first day, a red tank top and some dark denim
capri
pants.

I
hopped down the stairs one by one to the kitchen, where my mom was cooking up
eggs, bacon and toast for breakfast. Mom always made a good breakfast in the
morning. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” she would always
say. I can’t really complain; I love breakfast.

“Mm,
that smells delicious, Mom,” I said hungrily.

“Good
morning, honey, Sit down and pour yourself some orange juice, breakfast is just
about ready. How did you sleep?”

My
mom had no idea I had been enduring nightmares for the last six months, but I
wasn’t going to fill her in on that detail. She would probably drag me off to
some therapist, which was something I would not tolerate.

“Good.”
I tried not to sound too enthusiastic, or she might have thought I was lying.

“Are
you excited to be starting high school today?” she asked.

“No,”
I responded smugly.

She
only glared at me. I didn’t bother to respond. Instead, I sat there in silent
protest for the rest of the meal.

Mom
drove me to school on her way to work. I flipped through the radio stations
until I found a rock station that sounded good, but Mom just changed it back to
her classical music. I rolled my eyes. It was moments like that when I wished I
had an MP3 player. We typically agreed on most things on account of the fact
that we were very alike, but music was a different story entirely. I had my
likes and she had hers, and under no circumstance did they cross paths.

I
gave my mom a quick wave as my eyes darted around the school, taking in all of
my new surroundings. The school didn’t look much different than the high school
I would have been going to in California.

I
arrived earlier than anyone else and decided to take the extra time to find all
of my classes. I did not relish the idea of being late if I had to rush around
later in the day to find one. The idea of bringing attention to myself in that
way made my stomach turn.

Even
though the school looked about the same size as the high school I would’ve
attended in California, this school was still much bigger than the middle
school I had attended the year before. 

All
of my classes proved to be fairly easy to find and not far from each other—and
for that I was grateful. I could only assume that having to travel from one end
of the school to the other in seven minutes would be the biggest challenge.

I
still had an abundance of time before my first class began, so I found a picnic
table in the front of the school and sat down. I passed the time watching my
fellow students arrive. Many of them looked around as if they were lost or felt
just as strange as I on the first day. Then there were the ones that emanated
popularity and ease. Those were the particular students that never seemed to
have a bad day, and for them the first day of school was like a party being
thrown in their honor. They floated from friend to friend, catching up on the
latest gossip. I had never been one of those people, and I doubted I would ever
be. But I can't say I cared to be either.

Realizing
I had only five minutes until the bell rang, I hopped out of my seat. The walls
in the hallway were plastered with posters and banners promoting all of the
clubs and events around the school. My eyes went from poster to poster, weighing
in on which groups looked the most enticing. So far the only one that seemed to
catch my eye was Yearbook Club. I loved to take pictures, though I didn't do it
often.

My
mind changed gears quickly when I noticed a boy who was, without a doubt, drop-dead
gorgeous. He stood out in his khaki cargo pants, button-up blue plaid shirt and
stylish sneakers—although I think he would have looked amazing in anything. The
backpack he was wearing had a football patch pinned on it, and I wondered if he
was on the football team. He had annoyingly perfect wavy blond hair, and his
eyes were the most interesting shade of green.

Suddenly,
he looked right at me and my heart skipped a beat. It was unlikely he would
ever be interested in a plain girl like me, but I immediately began imagining
what it would be like to date someone like him. As he casually walked over to
me, I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

He
towered over me, making me feel like a child.

“Hi
there,” he grinned.

He
was actually going to talk to me?

“Hi,”
I replied, almost in a whisper. I was unsure of what else to say.

 “Are
you new here? I don’t remember seeing you before and I think I would remember
that face.” His voice was as smooth as silk.

I
tightened my jaw a bit, trying to push back a smile.
Ahh
,
he was complimenting me
.

I
cleared my throat. “Yeah, I just moved here from California,” I told him, my
voice a little less cowardly than before.

“Wow!
Move from the perfect weather of California to the insane heat of Arizona? Your
parents must be nuts!” he chuckled.

“Yeah,
I don’t know what my mom was thinking.”

“What’s
your name? I’m Pete, Pete Denali.”

“Abby,”
I said, just as the bell rang.

I
realized we were alone in the hallway. I cringed; so much for getting to class
on time.

“Late
on the first day, not exactly the ideal start to the school year,” he said
regretfully with a hint of sarcasm.

“Yeah,
no kidding!” I laughed. “I'd better get going.”

We
both turned to walk quickly down the hall in the same direction. I shuffled my
feet in time with his without even trying. I waited for him to turn and leave
me, but when we walked into the same class I was shocked.

I
hoped the excitement wasn’t written all over my face, because I was thrilled at
the thought that we had at least one class together. Algebra, my least favorite
subject, wasn't looking so bad after all.

When
we walked into class and everyone turned to stare, my face felt red hot. I
hadn’t realized we were that late. I took the first open seat I saw, willing
the embarrassing redness to subside from my face. Pete followed suit, sitting
in the seat directly in front of me.
Perfect
. I could actually stare at
him the whole class period and he wouldn't have a clue. I felt a tinge of
exasperation as I realized I was starting to blush again.

Pete
and I didn’t talk the rest of the period. Instead, we listened to Mr. Robbins
go over the class syllabus for the upcoming year. Feeling bored, I alternated
between staring at the back of Pete’s head and doodling in my notebook.
Finally, when the bell rang, everyone gathered their belongings and headed out
of class. All except Pete, who waited for me.

“What’s
your next class?” he asked as we walked out of the classroom together.

“English.
You?” I asked.

“Darn,
I have reading.”

He
walked me to my next class and it felt like my heart would beat out of my
chest. Never had someone so attractive appeared interested in me before. You
could call my dating life less than mediocre. I went on a few dates in
California, but it was nothing to brag about.

It
was obvious that Pete was pretty well known just from our walk through the
halls together. My self-consciousness started to get the better of me, and I
already found myself wondering if he had a girlfriend. Maybe he was just being
nice because I was new, not because he was interested in being anything more
than friends.  I chastised myself for jumping to conclusions.

Before
I knew it, we were standing in front of my next class.

“Well,
I guess I will see you later,” Pete said.

“Okay,
thanks for walking with me to class.”

Out
of the corner of my eye, I notice a fairly attractive boy staring at us. I
found myself drawn to his frigid stare. He seemed to be glaring at Pete, and I
couldn’t help but wonder why.

His
spiked black hair and piercing blue eyes were a stunning combination. He wasn't
as tall as Pete, but he was far from being considered short.

“Abby?
Are you okay?”

Oops!
Pete had been talking to me while I was in my
daze
. I
didn’t have a clue what he said.

“I’m
sorry, what did you say?” I asked, embarrassed that I hadn’t been paying
attention.

“Would
you like to sit with me at lunch?” he asked a little sheepishly.

I
was immediately ashamed that I had made him repeat it.