AUTHORS NOTE:Okay! So this is my take on the Lorien Legacy series, I'll admit that quite a few things but the plot remains the same up until about the first few chapters. There will be subtle but important changes so even if its difficult try to read through the entire story!


Chapter 1-New

"I told you. I definitely told you, didn't I? I did! I told you." The girls behind me were about 30 seconds from getting hit in the face. Annoying? Yes. But correct?

I hadn't seen the new kid for myself, but from what I'd heard, he was more than worth a second glance.

My attention flew towards the sound of several different unnecessarily loud laughs. At least 20 people were standing around Sam Goode's locker, their taunting directed at the gangly, dark-haired boy covered in red paint.

"Oh, Sam…" I whispered, shoving through the crowd. Sam was paying attention to no one. His eyes were set on his hands, his fingers moving slowly, smearing red paint across the photo he held.

"Hey, UFO!"

Everyone, Sam included, turned to Mark Ceaser and his pack of hyenas. "What's wrong freak? Not the alien you were expecting?" Sam slammed his locker and stormed past us all. I followed. I shouldn't have, but I did.

"Sam..." I said quietly. He was holding the picture under the faucet, not answering. "Sam, Mark is just-"

"I don't want to talk about it."

I made my way to him and sat on the counter, ignoring the fact that I was now in the boy's bathroom.

"Who's in the picture?" I asked softly.

"My Dad. The real one," a small smile slipped across his face for a brief second. "We were at the zoo that day. I don't know… my mom threw all his other pictures away when he…"

Disappeared. Saint Louis was no small town, but word spread like wildfire at Camden High. Sam's dad was all about the paranormal. He'd spent years talking about aliens, how they'd be "coming soon" with trouble following closely behind. When the day finally came, Sam spent all day waiting for his Dad to come home. They found his truck near the Mexican border. He wasn't in it.

I grabbed a few towels and soaked them under another spout.

"Come here." I turned Sam around and started blotting at the paint on his shirt.

"How'd you know my name?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't I?" Sam shot me a look.

"You're a cheerleader."

"And you're good at fixing cars. Does that mean you don't know my name?"

"Sophia Tjaden." He laughed.

"Sam Goode. Now that we have names down, we should find you a new shirt."

Sam nodded, pulling a grey T out of his backpack. He cleared his throat and I raised my hands in defense, laughing. I left the bathroom, unsure about how I felt.

*Number Four*

I'm used to blending in. Good at it by now, even. That's good enough reason for Henri to let me go to school right? To leave me alone? Wrong. We're leaving. Again.

I knew Number Three was dead the second it started burning. One was killed when I was 9. Two, when I was 12. Every time one of us dies, the rest of us get a scar.

When I was 8, ten of us were sent to Earth. Ten of us were saved. Our Cepan, guardians, are built to protect us from anything and everything, mainly the Mogadorians, the ones who destroyed Lorien. Before we left, a charm was put on us so that as long as we stayed separated, we could only be killed in order. A warning sign. A chance for the rest of us to move.

I didn't panic when One died. Or Two. Or Three, even. Until I remembered that I am Number Four.

"John Smith. Really?" I shot Henri a look.

"That's an invisible person's name. Isn't that what we're shooting for?"

"…No. Not at all, actually."

"Yeah, whatever. Cool names are how you wound up on the internet last time." Henri ran his fingers through his greying hair.

"Last time shouldn't count."

"But it does. Go, you'll be late."

I'd somehow managed to convince Henri that school was a necessity, on the condition I didn't make a "spectacle" of myself again. No team sports, no clubs, no Honor Roll. Nada. It was a pain in the ass, really. Us Loric children had Natural Enhancement. We're faster. Stronger. More agile than any Olympic star wishes he could be. Sports was all mine, until people started to take notice.

Camden was just like the 14 other high schools I'd been to. Big. Loud. Tons of kids. There wasn't much to see. The football players looked at me like I was Jesus, and I'd quit trying to talking to girls the second I'd realized I'd never be around long enough to learn their names.

I sat in one of the squeaky chairs next to the office while the desk lady pulled up my schedule.

"This is unlawfully devious, I caught her RED HANDED with the spray can!"

"Mr. Stiller if you have a problem with creative expression, you should just reinstate your vote against the school's art department." A soft but snide voice answered. It was honey-sweet. For a second, I forgot where I was at and why.

"You stop with your smart mouth right now!" the man yelled. My urge to get up and slap him was so strong it almost made me uneasy. The next voice was stern, but not angry.

"Sophia. Enough is enough, alright."

"Sophia." I mumbled. I liked that name. A lot.

"Can I leave now?" she sighed. The principle nodded solemnly and she started leaving the office. The desk woman stood up.

"Alright, first class is Astronomy. Your locker is in the-oh! Sophia, dear, could you show our young man to his locker?"

Sophia sighed and turned. She hit me like a wrecking ball. Her perfect heart-shaped face. She was petite, but God damn was she curvy. Her lips were full and looked sinfully soft, her black curls tumbled over her collar bone. She was mixed, whatever with was unknown to me-but whatever made her needed to do the world a favor and make more. She was gorgeous. But what got me was those eyes. They were almost black , wide, rimmed with thick long eyelashes.

If she asked me for anything, I'd give it to her. If it was a limb, a lung, or the moon. I didn't care what, it'd be hers. Just like I was.*

*Sophia*

He was gorgeous, I'll admit it. I was more than happy to play babysitter for a few minutes. He stared at me the entire time we walked down the hall.

"So…Sophia? I mean, that's your name. It's Sophia. Yeah. Right?" he stuttered.

"Day one and you're already stalking me?" I teased.

"No! I mean no. No. Not at all."

"I'm kidding."

I lead him around the corner and slid the schedule out of his hands. "Okay. Homeroom is downstairs in the science wing, the cafeteria is to your right and two halls down, this is your locker, and your name is…?"

"John. Smith."

I felt the annoyance flash across my face.

"Okay. No name, alright." I shrugged as I walked away without another word.-

-Sam found me at lunch. Or I found him, rather, right before a football nailed him in the face. Sam flew sideways, his books sprawling all across the concrete.

"Sam!" I practically threw my bag on the ground, running to him.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." He grumbled, sitting up on his elbows.

John was jogging towards us.

"Awe, here comes Mommy!" Mark teased.

"You alright?" John whispered, picking up Sam's books.

"Yeah, fine. Don't even worry about it."

"Sam…" I mumbled.

"Really, don't worry about it." Sam snatched up the rest of his things and trudged off to his truck.

When I turned back around, John was staring at me again.

"Someone should've done something." I grumbled, trying to make it less awkward. Before I knew it, John was standing up again, his arm slung back with the football in hand. "I didn't mean you!" I argued, grabbing his arm. John shrugged me off gently.

"You worry too much." He smiled.

Andrew Harris wound up in the hospital with a cracked rib, via football. Everyone had gone dead silent the second he'd hit the ground- 1. Because Andrew was our best catcher on the football team and

2. No one knew it was humanly possible to throw a football so hard at someone that you could knock them flat on their back.

A smirk played on John's lips, his dark green eyes lighting with pride. He ran a hand through his straight blonde hair and flashed me a nervous smile.

"I don't know my own strength?" he said sheepishly.

"You're a hot mess."

"I didn't mean to-"

"Yeah, yeah."

We stood there awkwardly for a minute. I wanted him to say something but I had no idea what. What the hell was I doing anyway? It was stupid for me to pretend the new kid would want to become my best friend or something. John opened his mouth to say something, then quickly shut it and walked away.