Chapter One

“You can’t keep staying out until all hours of the morning, Edgar! What example are you
setting for the children?”
I shut my eyes tighter, pulling my faded jean quilt up to my nose. Glancing over at the
digital clock on my nightstand I sighed. Two-thirty in the morning. They had been at this for
hours. The fighting had seemed to be happening non-stop since we moved to Louisville,
Colorado. Of course Mom and Dad tried to keep their fighting hidden in front of us ‘children’, as
my mom had put it.
But five of us were in high school, more adult that kid. The only one of us I’d really
consider a child would be twelve year old Jacob, but even he acted more mature than some of my
other brothers. They all loved to pick on me, especially Zack, since I was the only sister they had
and what not. So, we were all plenty mature enough to realize the discord between our parents.
Tonight was the second time this week Dad had come home later than midnight,
something I would never have thought possible of him. But he’d been under a lot of pressure
lately, having been laid off in Seattle before being offered a sub-par accounting job with the city
of Louisville. Actually, all of us were under a lot of pressure.
I hated having to leave school in the middle of second semester to move to this podunk
town. We moved into this house a week ago and were all scheduled to start school this coming
Monday. Just three days away.
More like two now, I thought ruefully, casting another glance at my clock. If my parents
kept this up I wouldn’t get any sleep before school started.
I looked around my small room, trying to think of anything but that dreaded first day of
school—making new friends, playing catch-up in classes. Thinking about it made me shudder. I
had to keep my mind off of that topic. My plan was to cross that hurdle when I came to it.
I scanned my bedroom to try and distract myself. My room seemed to shrink at night as
blue moonlight poured in through my window overlooking the front lawn. Not that I was
complaining about the size. My parents had given me one of the four bedrooms in this house all
to myself, which is more than my brothers could say. Pete and Zack were sharing a room. Same
with the Twerbs and Jacob. That was one of the few perks I had being a girl in a house full of
boys.
Boxes were piled high against the wall and my garage-sale desk had found its spot
underneath the window overlooking the front yard. It was cluttered with papers. Lyrics. Not that
I’d ever admit to anybody that I wrote lyrics. Those were way too private for me to tell anyone
about.
My eyes lingered on the ugly brown boxes. Despite having been here a week I still hadn’t
unpacked anything other than the essentials. Unpacking made the move feel too permanent.
But it was permanent. I knew that.
It’s not that I didn’t like Colorado; it’s just that Seattle is my home. It’s where I grew up,
where I made all my memories, though not all of them were good.
I shuddered as the memory of that dark October night crept into my mind. Big Nose,
black car, the harbor . . . Suddenly my dark room was making me anxious. I shut my eyes to hide
from the memory, but it was there waiting for me.
Think of Pete, I told myself. My heart was pounding hard against my chest. Think of
Pete.
I thought of Pete’s face, its sharp angles that were somehow soft and warming. His brown
hair and comforting green eyes. Pete was not only my brother, he was my best friend. It was Pete
who always squished spiders for me and only his voice could help drive away the night terrors
whenever they returned.
Just as I was beginning to calm, my parents’ voices escalated before a sudden crash
emanated from their room, right next door to mine. I opened my eyes. Their voices had stopped,
probably finally realizing just how loud they were being. I vaguely wondered what they had
broken.
The silence was even more disturbing than the shouting had been. I looked over at the
clock. Three in the morning. This was not a good habit to be getting into, staying up until all
hours of the morning. Trying to be good I closed my eyes. I would force myself to go to sleep.
However, after five minutes of tossing I sighed and sat up. I threw my purple quilt off,
annoyed. There was no way I would be getting back to sleep any time soon.
Quietly I slipped out of bed, grabbed my old acoustic guitar from its spot beside my
nightstand and crossed the room. I paused at the closed door, straining my ear. All I could hear
was the steady thrum of the air conditioner. Gently I tugged on my door. It stuck, which would
make sneaking out very difficult. I winced at the loud pop it made when I finally managed to tug
it free of the frame. Looking towards my parents room I saw the light was off. Maybe they’d
broken the lamp. I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about that right now. At least nobody
had heard me open my door.
I tip-toed down the hall towards the stairs, pausing outside Zack and Pete’s room as the
quiet squeak of bed springs pierced the quiet. I froze, waiting for the door to open and Zack to
come out and bust me. That would be just like him. Breaking the rules himself just to get me in
trouble. Despite it being the weekend, my parents were sticklers for not being out of your room
past midnight.
Just as my legs began to cramp, I heard quiet snores drifting from the room, though I
imagined they sounded thunderously loud on the other side of the wood. Zack was a snorer. I
laughed quietly, feeling very sorry for Zack’s future wife, as I continued to the stairs and quickly
wove my way through the house to the kitchen.
The kitchen was bigger than our one back in Seattle, which I begrudgingly counted as
one good thing about the move. We could actually fit a table in here that would sit all eight of us.
Not to mention that now I had more room to cook, something I enjoyed doing with Mom.
But I hadn’t snuck out of my room to admire the kitchen. I quickly made my way to the
sliding glass door that lead out to the wooden deck. The backyard was another thing I would
count as a good side effect of the move, not so begrudgingly. I couldn’t hate the backyard and
the Louisville beauty no matter how much I wanted to.
I slid the door shut behind me and sat down on the green patio swing. The stars shone
brightly above me, unobstructed by the clouds and big city lights I had always been used to.
Below them was a sea of evergreens. I still couldn’t believe it. We literally had a forest in our
backyard. Then there were the huge mountains off in the distance, completing the picture perfect
view.
Without a doubt the backyard was my favorite part of Colorado.
My mind wandered, fingers picking mindlessly at the guitar, almost playing of their own
accord it seemed. A cool March breeze tickled my neck, sending stray wisps of my long blonde
hair into my eyes. I sighed, trying to ignore it. My hair was getting too long. I almost always kept
it in a ponytail now a days just for convenience; just to keep it out of the way. But I was too lazy
to go and get it cut. Plus having to make chit chat with the hair dresser—not my thing.
The breeze continued along with my playing and eventually I began to hum. The tune
popped into my head, fitting the chords my fingers strummed effortlessly.
 I wasn’t sure what time it was when I strummed the last chord to my new found tune, but
I jumped hugely when a voice spoke from behind me, at the door.
“That was pretty.”
I turned to see Pete quietly sliding the glass door shut before he came to join me on the
bench. He was wearing his grey sweat pants along with a white basketball t-shirt from our old
school. I felt bad for him. He wasn’t going to get to play their teams last game or graduate with
any of his friends. But Pete was a ball of sunshine and didn’t have any problem with the move.
I leaned back in the swing and closed my eyes. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that,”
I reminded him, breathing deeply to try and slow my heart down. It seemed to be trying to make
a break for it through my chest.
“Sorry,” Pete apologized. “I actually heard you get up and came out to make sure you
were okay.”
I nodded, still not opening my eyes. “I’m fine. Just couldn’t really sleep.”
“Nervous?” he guessed.
I shrugged, slowly opening my eyes to look into his. “A little.”
“You have nothing to worry about Ali. You’ll make plenty of new friends,” Pete said,
picking up into the conversation we’d had for the past three weeks, since my dad had announced
the move.
“Easy for you to say,” I scoffed, getting tired of having to make the same arguments over
and over. “Everybody loves you, Mr. Perfect.”
Pete laughed. “We weren’t talking about me here, Squirt. We were talking about you.”
“I don’t like talking about me,” I replied, beginning to quietly pick at my guitar again.
It was quiet for several minutes, Pete listening to my guitar, my thoughts racing. I wasn’t
usually the kind of person who was shy about making new friends. Usually it was something I
readily welcomed. But the more I got to know the town of Louisville the more I felt like I would
not fit in here. Starting my sophomore year in Seattle had been easy, fun. But ending it here felt
wrong, like striking a wrong chord at the end of a song.
“They were fighting again,” Pete finally said. I turned to look at him. He was staring up
at the stars, just like me.
I sighed. “Yup.”
“Did you catch what it was about?”
“Dad staying out late, the move. . . You know. The usual.”
Pete breathed a laugh. “How sad that our parent’s have a usual.”
I laughed shakily as Pete turned to look at me. Then I noticed his hands balled up into
fists and frowned.
“Why did you bring out your baseball bat?” I was surprised to see his old slugger from
sixth grade lying across his lap. I hadn’t noticed it in his hands until just then. That wasn’t
something I had imagined to be high on his priority list to bring when we moved.
He shook his head, and then looked out to the woods. “I don’t like those trees,” he
whispered.
“Are you planning on beating them to death or something?” I laughed, though my arms
were beginning to tingle with goose bumps.
“Ali, I’m not afraid of the trees. I’m more afraid of what could be lurking in the shadow
of the trees.”
I frowned, shocked. He was serious. I could see it in his eyes, hear it in his tone. Pete
wasn’t scared of anything and he was only serious when he had to be. He was my fun loving
brother with a heart of steel.
“What? Like a bear or something?” I asked, trying to understand his concern.
 “Or something,” he replied wryly, his eyes wandering back to the dark shadows of the
trees.
I shivered as another cool breeze licked at my skin. It wasn’t until then that I realized I
had stopped playing. Slowly I began to strum again, but somehow my heart wasn’t in it anymore.
“What do you think?” I asked after a couple minutes of strange silence.
“About what?”
“The move.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Pete shrug. “I don’t know, Squirt. I really hope it was
the right decision.”
The worry in Pete’s voice worried me. I could see that his eyes were still scanning the
trees. My eyes narrowed. Seattle had been surrounded by trees and Pete had never been this
paranoid about rogue animals coming to eat us. Why the sudden change?
“You know you don’t have anything to worry about,” I said, thinking that maybe his
worry about school might be causing this weirdness. “Everybody loves you. You’ll fit right in at
Monarch.”
But Pete knew me too well not to catch the concern in my voice. He looked at me with a
serious smile. “You’ll fit in too, Ali.”
“But I’m not like you, Petey,” I said urgently, laying my guitar across my lap, spilling
every insecure thought that had been going through my mind since Dad announced this move. “I
mean, you are like track star extraordinaire. You’re going to have about a hundred friends the
first day. But me . . .” My voice trailed off nervously and I had to look away from him for shame.
It was so unfair that I had an amazing brother like Pete, but he just had a little loser like me for a
sister.
“Ali,” Pete said. I didn’t answer. “Alithea, look at me.”
I groaned quietly when he said my full name. Alithea: Worst. Name. Ever. With over
exaggerated slowness I turned to look at him.
“Look, you just have to find you niche,” Pete said when he saw he had my attention.
“Join some clubs. Go to the activities. You’ll make friends soon enough.”
When I didn’t answer he continued. “I think you should try and get into some sort of
music class.” He gestured to the guitar strewn across my lap. “You’re really talented Ali. I bet
you’d love it.”
“You know what I’d love?” I replied, every word dripping with sarcasm. “Having two
free periods a day. But unlike some people on this deck, I’m not old enough.”
Pete shrugged, grinning from ear to ear.
“You know what I’m stuck with?” I continued, “Seven classes and school lunch with the
Twerbs, while you and Zack get to go gallivanting all over town eating real food.”
“Gallivanting?” Pete chuckled. “I don’t think having an off campus permit is going to be
nearly as exciting as you think it will.”
“Probably not,” I smiled. Then a thought popped into my head that widened the grin.
“But in three months and two days I’ll be officially old enough to date and drive.”
“Oh yeah. Your birthday’s coming up isn’t it? I almost forgot.”
Scoffing, I slugged him in the arm for his nonchalant attitude and smiled hugely when he
winced. Not an easy task, hurting Pete. “C’mon. Tell me what you’re planning.”
Pete was the best brother. He never forgot my birthday. In fact, he usually spent a couple
weeks planning an elaborate and awesome present. Last year it had been a one on one day the
day after my birthday. We went to watch the Wizard’s play. He bought me a hot dog and then
took me out for a birthday sundae at my favorite little mercantile. It was nice. Spending one on
one time with Petey was the best.
 “Planning?” he replied, shocked. “Do I really look like a planner to you, Squirt?”
“Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out.” I sat back and crossed my arms.
“No you won’t,” Pete grinned. He turned to look up at the moon again and in a whisper to
himself said, “The big one-six. It came so fast.”
“Not fast enough,” I murmured in disagreement.
Pete turned to me, a joke glinting in his eyes. “You know what this means don’t you?
Dating, driving . . . I’m not sure I’m ready for you to turn sixteen. No guy is getting anywhere
near my little sister.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “You’re even worse than Dad.”
“Just saying.” He held his hands up innocently. “If you bring any guys home they have to
pass my inspection.”
“You’d just scare them off.”
“If you only bring home good guys then they’ll have nothing to be scared of.”
Biting back the sarcastic remark on my tongue, I shook my head. I could argue boys all
night with Petey and he would never loosen his stance. Best to just drop it.
“So, I actually was looking into this one class,” I said after a couple seconds of silence.
“It’s this music independent study class for students who take private lessons. If I was taking
private guitar lessons I could have a whole period to play. Wouldn’t that be awesome?”
“That sounds like the perfect class for you. Why don’t you take it?” he asked, sounding
excited.
“Oh, you mean besides the fact that I don’t take private lessons?”
Pete shrugged, his lips forming a taut line. “I could be your private tutor. Do you need a
note or something to get in?”
I laughed. “I’m actually not sure. I suppose I’d have to provide some sort of proof.”
“Hmm,” Pete said. The seriousness on his face made me laugh. “I could be your guitar
tutor: Bevin Macky Walker the second.”
My giggling would not die down and soon Pete joined in. The swing rocked back and
forth as we tried to stifle our laughter. If our parents caught us out here—at, what time was it
now? Probably three in the morning—they would ground us for a month.
“Bevin?” I finally managed to choke out, before breaking into another fit of laughter.
“Really? Where on earth did you hear that name?”
Pete was grinning, and we both breathed the last sighs of our laughing. “I think I heard it
on TV once.”
“Well, Bevin, if you can get me into that class I don’t care what name you use.”
Pete smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“You really think I’m good?” I asked, picking up my guitar and strumming a bit.
“Squirt,” Pete said, standing up and stretching his freakishly tall body, “I think you’re
great. Although, I don’t think I like the idea of you being in high school, playing your guitar. It’ll
be like a siren call. All those unsuspecting victims. It seems cruel.”
I laughed, standing up as well. “Oh Petey. You make me laugh. I’m hardly a siren.”
“Still,” Pete said, picking up his baseball bat—I noticed how his eyes went quickly to the
forest before flicking back to my face— “It’s my job to keep you out of trouble. And trust me
Ali, boys are trouble.”
I rolled my eyes. “Trust me. With five brothers, I know just how much trouble boys can
be.”
“Speaking of trouble, you better get to bed. Unless you want me telling Mom and Dad
you were sitting out on the deck at three in the morning.” His devilish smile made me scowl.
 “You were out here too, little Mr. Perfect,” I muttered, trudging towards the door.
Yanking the sliding door open as quietly as I could, I was halfway through before I realized Pete
wasn’t following.
I turned around to see Pete descending the small flight of stairs from the deck onto the
lawn, baseball bat in hand. I couldn’t see his face, but his body was rigid, tense as he faced the
forest.
“Pete? Aren’t you coming in?” I asked, confused. I let my eyes wander past him to the
trees, but I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
Pete turned around and looked at me strangely.
“I’ll be in in a minute,” he replied, turning his sights back on the woods. He seemed to be
scanning, looking for something.
“Pete?”
Pete didn’t respond for a moment, still looking into the first wave of trees that separated
lawn from woods. I frowned, staring at Pete with one foot in the house and one still on the deck.
What was he looking for? He was acting strange. Well, stranger than usual.
Pete sighed and with one last sweeping glance of the dark woods turned around and
headed toward the house. “Come one,” he said quietly, leading me inside with one hand on my
shoulder. His other hand was clenched tightly around the baseball bat.
Little did I know that would only be the beginning of the weirdness I encountered in
Louisville.