Awakening (The Way Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  Awakening

  Awakening

  Turner Duraski

  This is a work of fiction. All events, organizations, characters, and locations are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or people is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Turner Duraski.

  Cover Photo by Filipé Magalhães

  All rights reserved.

  No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Under no circumstances may any part of this book be photocopied for resale.

  ISBN–13: 978–1539300649

  First Edition

  For my family, friends, and everyone who’s been with me through the years.

  Mom, Dad, and Kristian, I love y’all.

  And to Caleb and Zac, I’m sorry that I’m so bad with commas.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty–Two

  Chapter Twenty–Three

  Chapter Twenty–Four

  Chapter Twenty–Five

  Chapter Twenty–Six

  Chapter Twenty–Seven

  Chapter Twenty–Eight

  Chapter One

  Moving? It sucks, simple as that, especially when you're terrible at making friends. And it sucks even more when you move to a new town cause you're apparently crazy and need a change of scenery.

  We’d been in town for a couple months, but I was just about to start school late in October due to, well, stuff we’ll get to later.

  It wasn't as easy navigating the mall as I had hoped and I was thoroughly lost, standing by the ice rink.

  "Where is it?" I mumbled aloud.

  A girl’s voice came from behind me: "What're you looking for?"

  I turned and saw exactly the kind of person I was looking for.

  The girl was stunning: dark brown hair down past her shoulders with the bangs swept to the right side of her face. She had dyed two red streaks in her bangs and a few others down the sides. Being tall and thin made her outfit work so well for her: black jeans with ripped knees, a band tank top, and arms lined with metal bracelets and bangles.

  "I'm looking for the store you've been shopping at." I joked, feeling my throat tighten with nerves. I took a breath and focused on just acting relaxed.

  "I should have guessed." She hid a giggle with her hand and gestured at my white band T–shirt and black jeans. "It's this way, if you want me to show you?"

  "Sure, that'd be great!" I replied as she began walking away.

  "I'm Raven, by the way." She shaking her hair back over her shoulder.

  "Way." I replied a little awkwardly. Random joking was one thing, but actually getting to know someone wasn't easy for me.

  If she hadn't been leading me to the store I was looking for, I probably would've walked away the minute names were exchanged.

  "That's an odd name." She replied jokingly. Thank god we were back in my comfort zone.

  "Coming from the chick named after a bird?" I laughed. "I don't think you have any room to talk about odd names."

  "How did I know you'd bring that up?" She giggled as we arrived at the front of the store.

  I looked up at the Hot Topic sign and threw my arms open wide, "I have found you again."

  "You new around here?" She asked, leading me inside.

  "Welcome to Hot Topic! Can I help you with anything?"

  "No thanks, just looking" Raven responded before looking back to me for an answer.

  "Kinda," I replied. "I start school tomorrow so I wanted a new shirt."

  "I was wondering if it'd be a shirt or some new bling," she smirked flicking at the tiny black hoop in my left ear.

  For reasons unknown to me, I didn't swat her hand away or panic like I usually would have. I laughed and in that moment I was more confused by myself than I ever had been before.

  "These real?" She gently tugged on the other black mini hoop in my right ear and the silver cartilage hoop on my left.

  “Yes, they are." I replied with a chuckle and gently pushed her away. She was so easy going, so funny…so cute.

  “Wait, why are you just now starting school?” She asked suddenly.

  I took a deep breath and gave an answer that was mostly true. “Got into town a few months ago and we’ve been getting moved in and sorted and stuff. So my mom was just gonna homeschool me for a year. She used to be a teacher so I’m up to speed, fortunately. But then the company my parents work for gave them these new positions where they have to go on lot’s of trips so…” I drug out the word and gestured around.

  “I gotcha,” she giggled. “Well I’ll let you look around.”

  I fell silent as I searched for a new shirt, thinking that maybe I was starting to go sane.

  You can't have normal human interactions! The voice in my head told me. That's not a thing you're capable of. It's never worked before. After all, you're just a socially awkward man–dork with a strange inability to display emotions properly or do anything except get in fights.

  Suddenly, I felt a hand rest on shoulder. I felt a warm tingling sensation that seemed to run into my arm and something like static ran out. As I turned, I saw the hand was connected to Raven's bracelet covered wrist.

  "Hey, quit beating yourself up." She smiled sweetly at me.

  I stared at her confused, "How'd you know I was beating myself up?"

  "Oh, um," she blushed and seemed flustered. "You just got really down looking, ya know? Like you were thinking about something wrong."

  It almost felt like she was lying but how else could she know? It wasn't like she could read my mind.

  Hey, you don't know that for sure. The voice whispered in my head. Maybe she can. After Denver, it’s not to unbelievable. "I'd rather not think about Denver." I muttered aloud.

  Raven suppressed a laugh, as horror rushed through me. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I do that sometimes. I talk to myself and now you think I'm a freak. Great." I tossed up my hands. "Made a friend and I'm already scaring her away, typical."

  She laid her hand on my shoulder and let her laughter out. It was sweet, not mocking like most of the laughter I'd heard in my life.

  "I'm sorry," she gasped through her laughs. "That was so random and cute I can't help it."

  "Did you just call me cute?" I gaped at her.

  "Well, yeah." She seemed confused as she fought back the last of her laughter. "Don't you get that a lot?"

  "Never." I replied honestly. "The last girl who called me cute," Memories flooded me and I shuddered. "I don't talk about that."

  "Oooo a man of mystery!" She giggled and grabbed my wrist, while reaching fo
r a sharpie off of the counter. "You have a phone, right?" She asked and I nodded.

  "Then text me sometime." She smiled at me and scrawled her number up my arm, starting at my wrist. "I gotta get home for dinner."

  Again, I got the weird feeling she was lying but I didn't call her on it. I was used to people wanting to get away from me. I wasn't used to girls scrawling their cell phone numbers on my body.

  "Seriously, though, text me." She called as she left the store. I stood awkwardly for a moment and then got the shirt I had found.

  "What just happened?" I wondered as I walked to my car.

  Chapter Two

  "What's that on your arm?" My mom asked at dinner that night.

  "Oh, um, well," My awkwardness was returning. "I met this girl at the mall and she didn't have any paper, so…"

  "Oh my gosh!" My mom exclaimed excitedly. "You got a girl’s number?"

  "Um, yeah, I guess so." I was uncomfortable. I didn't want to talk about this, about anything really.

  "What was she like?" My dad asked, barely masking his disbelief.

  "Um, she was really helpful and funny." I looked down at my plate. I hated talking about girls to my parents. Not that I had to do it much, of course.

  "What was her name?" My mom demanded. It was rare for me to interact with people so, looking back I understand their shock. At the time, it just annoyed me.

  "Raven." I responded shortly.

  "That's an interesting name," my dad commented. "What was she like?"

  "She dressed kinda like me and she was funny. Now, can we change the subject?" I said irritated.

  "Watch your tone young man," my dad snapped at me. "We're trying to be supportive."

  I fell quiet but silent fumed. Hell, if that's supportive, I'm scared of how they'd act if they actually wanted to bring you down. The voice chimed in but I ignored it.

  I finally finished eating and was able to escape to my room. I crossed the floor and flopped down on my bed. The black sheets welcomed me as I looked around the dimly lit room. Only one light in the overhead worked and it gave off a faint orange light. I didn’t mind; I liked it dark. My walls were scattered with a few band posters here and there and my desk was by the door at the foot of my bed, with my laptop shut on top of it.

  I rolled onto my left side and gazed out the window. My neighborhood spread out underneath my window. From my place on the second floor, I could gaze out over the shorter, one–story, houses. I rolled over onto my back and flopped one arm over my face. The faint scent of Cresol hit my nostrils and I lifted my arm.

  325–5362

  I pulled out my phone and punched her number into my contacts. I thought about texting her but decided against it. She probably regretted giving me her number anyways.

  I looked at my clock. The red digital read out said 10:02. I reached over and picked up a deck of playing cards. It was a new pack that I had picked up at the mall after my run in with Raven. With how much I practiced my tricks my cards tended to wear out rather quickly.

  I practiced palming cards, forcing cards, and making them disappear then reappear in various other places on my body. After a while, I inevitably dropped a card. As I bent over to pick it up off the floor, I caught sight of my alarm clock.

  1:36

  "Crap," I sighed realizing I'd stayed up way too late again. At this point, I was only going to get about four hours of sleep. "Well, I guess my summer vacation is," as I flopped back onto my pillows I sent a card zipping across the room striking my light switch into the 'off' position. "Over."

  Chapter Three

  I walked into the official start of my senior year the next morning with my mouth still dry from my pills. Nothing to ruin my favorite holiday of Halloween like having to go to school.

  I took one look around and immediately wanted to vanish. Of course, I couldn't. So, instead, I went with the next best thing. I held my head up, narrowed my eyes, and put on a cocky smirk. My dark jeans, red shirt, wallet chain, piercings, and eyes partially hidden by my hair, all topped with my mask of confidence, were a walking picture of "Don't mess with me". Sure, it didn't help make friends, but it was better than getting shouldered to the tiles by a football player.

  I got my schedule and set to the task of finding my locker. I navigated the crowded halls full of yelling teenagers without touching a soul. My feet carried me like a leaf in the wind until I finally found my locker.

  I laughed softly at the number on the door: 413.

  As if your luck needed to get any worse. I rolled my eyes at that thought and dialed in my combination. Just as I pulled the door open, someone fell against me from behind slamming the door shut and knocking me almost to the ground. I caught my balance and shoved the kid away, sending him to the ground in a heap.

  He had a long series of ill–advised piercings in his lips, nose, eye brows, and ears along with dyed black hair with blonde streaks in it. He was about three inches shorter than me, at around 5'9", and was scrawny. His attire was all black from the beanie on his head to the Chucks on his feet. Bully bait, plain and simple. I reached to help him up but he shied away.

  "Look, I'm sorry I pushed you," I said awkwardly. "You startled me is all."

  He looked untrustingly at me as though he expected me to shove him back to the ground but took my hand and let me pull him up.

  I turned to look behind me and saw a group of six large boys laughing and high fiving. I groaned as I realized they'd seen me help Goth Boy up. The largest strode up to me, smirking arrogantly. He was about 6'2", 200 pounds of equal parts fat and muscle. Nice move.

  "You're new." He said loudly and the hall fell into hushed whispers as people turned to watch. Great, I'd found the king jerk only, after, I had ended up on his radar.

  I groaned inwardly but shrugged back at him. "Yeah, just transferred."

  "Get kicked out of your old school or something?" He asked loudly.

  "No," I forced a smile and laugh. "Just moved into town and was helping get moved in, so my parents just homeschooled me for a while."

  I was trying not to make this guy mad so he’d forget me and I could avoid him for the rest of the year.

  "Oh, a homeschool brat, huh?" He exclaimed and shoved me.

  The force would've only sent me half a step backwards but I took three. I was still desperate to avoid a serious confrontation. "So, I guess you figure you're smarter than all of us dumb little public schoolers."

  I ground my teeth and forced myself not to be a smartass, "No, of course not! I don't even know your name, much less, how smart you are."

  "I'm Clint," he stepped forward and leaned down into my face, grabbing my shirt. "And I don't like these."

  He grabbed my left earring in his hand and tugged it. "Maybe I should just rip it out."

  He was trying to scare me. I knew it was a bluff and yet something came over me that I wasn’t used to: I actually wanted to stand my ground.

  No. No. What are you doing!? The voice yelled but I ignored it.

  I swatted Clint’s hand away from my ear and shoved him back a couple of yards, while at the same time slipping his watch off of his wrist. "Well, I like them and I think they'll stay where they are." I growled at him.

  "Ooo!" His boys started practically howling. "Kill him!"

  Clint started to come forward but the bell rang, cutting him off. He looked up at the object that had just ruined his fun like he wanted to smash it.

  "You're on my list punk." He growled as he turned to walk back to his crew.

  I couldn't hold back a passing jab as I held up the watch: "Hope you keep up with your list better than your things." I threw the watch at his chest, hard, as he and the surrounding students stared incredulously.

  He grunted at his crew and they turned to leave. The hallways cleared quickly after that. A couple of people gave me passing glances as though they were looking at a man on death row. In some ways, they probably were.

  Within seconds, Goth Boy was the only one left. I looked over to
where he stood, with his mouth still agape.

  "Did I grow another arm or something?" I demanded sarcastically.

  "No, but you seem to be gunning to lose one." He replied, finally picking his jaw up off of the floor.

  "How do you figure?" I opened my locker again finally putting away my books and bag. I grabbed my binder and calculator. "By the way, do you know where Algebra 2 with Trig. happens?"

  "Just come with me; that's my first class, too." He replied, still staring. "Did you really just pick a fight with Clint Edmund on your first day?"

  "I didn't pick anything." I replied, shaking my head as we started walking. "He grabbed me."

  "But you stood up to him!" Goth Boy replied. "He has like sixty pounds on you! And you stood up to him!"

  "Size doesn't matter in a fight." I muttered. I knew from experience how true that was.

  "I thought that was just something small people said?" He replied poking my tricep. I shied away a little bit at his touch. I certainly wasn’t small but I wasn’t large either, about 150 with very little body fat. My main coping mechanism for stress was to train hard and it showed.

  "No," I replied awkwardly. "It's not just something small people say. It's true. Technique and speed will overcome brute strength every time. Don't get me wrong," I shrugged. "You have to have the strength to make the techniques work, of course."

  "You sound like you’ve been in a couple fights,” He commented. I shrugged and he went on. “And the way you took that watch! I didn't even notice until you held it up. Are you like a ninja or something?"

  We had reached the door of our math class.

  "Nope, never done that martial art." I forced a laugh, just wishing he'd leave me alone.

  I opened the door and found an empty seat near the back of the classroom. Dropping my stuff, I glanced around. Eggshell walls and grey carpet, greeted me along with the whispers and sideways glances of my classmates. Word was already getting around, apparently.

  Great. Just great! Now you've got the head honcho gunning for you and everyone is watching to see what comes next. Hope you're ready for a fight, Way. "I'm always ready for a fight; I just don't like them very much."