Chapter One
Lori
It was the first of October; the leaves were red, orange, yellow and brown, all crisp and ready to fall off the trees. The rising sun glistened and reflected crystals off the river. The gentle wind blew my light see-through curtains a gust of fresh cool air caressing my face. I sighed and turned over. School was in an hour, I had to get up.
"Lori! Get up!" my dad yelled from behind my door.
"Alright, be right there," I yawned wanting to go back to sleep. I turned over and rubbed my eyes, yawning once again.
I got up and grabbed my towel and walked out into the hall. As I entered the small landing of the condo I saw my sister enter her room. I lived with my sister Kelly and dad Peter O'Malley in a nice sized condo in Mt. Adams Cincinnati. I walked into the small bathroom Kelly and I shared and took a quick shower. After I got out and dried off and put my contacts in, dried my hair and walked back to my room to get dressed.
My sister and I went to Summerwood Academy in Hyde Park, one of Cincinnati's most prestige schools. It was very hard to get into and Kelly and I were lucky to both be attending it. I put on my crimson red polo shirt and squeezed into my black skirt—that was four inches above the knee—that I despised. I slipped on my favorite black flats and put my brown hair into an elegant yet casual pin curl twist.
I bounded down the stairs to the kitchen where Kelly and my dad were eating, or at least Kelly was eating. My dad stood by the stove reading the morning paper while sipping his coffee and humming to the oldies station on the straight-out of the eighties radio. We looked like one of those perfect families that you saw in a home decorations magazine or on television, from faraway, but the closer you got the more you realized we had the same problems as every other family in the world.
"Hey baby, you sleep well?" my dad asked looking up from his paper.
"Yep. Like a baby," I smiled as I grabbed a plate of eggs and bacon from the counter. The next ten minutes were spent in silence as we all ate our food and listened to the radio. I sighed in ease, the morning was going well. There hadn't been any screaming or yelling, no door slamming and not a single object thrown and smashed into oblivion. At least until Kelly—breaking the silence, the oh so good silence—said,
"Yesterday, Ash was like 'did you know,'"
"Who?!" my dad demanded. "Who said what!!"
"N-nobody, n-never mind," Kelly stammered suddenly realizing her mistake.
"NO!" my dad yelled, making me jump. "You said Ash. You meant Ashton Shaw didn't you?!" You could see my dad's face turning from red to blue to a violent shade of purple. The best thing, though, to do was wait till he calmed down, but I could see that wasn't going to happen.
"Kelly," I hissed between my teeth, "Do something."
"No!" Kelly cried, her face suddenly going red too. "I can be friends with whomever I please and dad as no right to tell differently!"
"Hell NO!!" my dad yelled, his face going to a bad shade of blue now. "I'm your father dammit and have every right to tell you what to do and what not to do! And I've told and will tell you again, you are NOT allowed to hang out with the Shaw boys! Do you understand me?" he yelled, glaring madly at Kelly and I.
"NO DAD! I DO NOT UNDERSTAND!" Kelly yelled tears—actual tears—falling down her cheeks. "You tell us not to talk to them or hang out with them, but you never ACTUALLY tell us WHY!! WHY DAD? WHY? Why can't I hang out with them? What are you afraid of?!"
"I'm not afraid of anything dammit!" He yelled back, suddenly throwing his plate across the room; the plate smashing into the wall and into pieces. I wanted to cry, I was getting really scared now, my dad and Kelly had the shortest tempers and anything could set them off.
"Dad," I interrupted looking at the clock, "Kelly and need to go." I grabbed my bag and Kelly—who also grabbed hers—and all but ran out into the garage.
"I'm driving," Kelly snapped, yanking the keys out of my hands. We rode to school in dead silence, I was too afraid to even look at Kell. I wanted to ask if she was alright but a voice in my head told to leave her alone.
Half way to school though, I couldn't take anymore and asked. Kelly, instead of answering my question pulled over into a gas station and started to cry all over again.
"Kelly!" I cried. "Are you alright?"
"No! Does it….look….like….I'm alright?" she demanded between sobs. I let her cry for a couple more minutes; slowly rubbing her back and whispering to her words of comfort. About ten minutes had passed and Kelly took a deep breath and heaved her shoulders back and said— "I'm ok, I think I'll be fine." We rode the rest of the way to school in a more comfortable silence as Jason Mraz played in the back round.
As we pulled into the school's parking lot I saw Kelly smile. Summerwood was Kelly's second home since my mom died. The large brick castle like school was like a second home to all the students, especially the ones that had been there since kindergarten. The school reminded me of some small castle a duke or lord would live in. It was made of a deep brown brick, reaching five stories high. At both ends of the building, it came out, making the courtyard a U shape. On top of the building was a large cross, symbolizes the schools Catholic belief. In the background was the most beautiful cathedral, the tower soaring 20 feet over the school. The entire cathedral seemed to be made of pinkish white marble, with 15 foot stain glass windows and beautiful works of art all over the church walls. The pews sat two people and the entire school went to mass every Wednesday and Friday morning.
The school was a home to anyone who wanted it to be. Dean Burns was actually pretty cool, never to strict yet not very lenient. The guidance counselors actually listened to us and are never afraid to point out problems you may be having and actually help with them, even though no one in reality goes to them unless called down there. Yet the school is everyone's home. Kelly's more than anything.
"Remember Kelly to meet by the car so we can head to the Pub," I remembered suddenly.
"Ha!" Kelly blurted. "You have to be kidding right? There's no way I'm going down to the pub. I'm going with Ruby and the guys down to Newport. So….see ya," she informed me, getting out of the hybrid and throwing me the keys. "Oh and tell dad he can screw it," she said bending down to look at me.
"Kelly!" I cried astonished. I couldn't believe she had just said that. I got out the car to tell her to take that back, but it was too late, Kelly was surrounded by friends and wasn't about to embarrass her after what happened earlier. I sighed and locked the car. I headed upstairs to my locker on the fifth floor.
Kindergarten, first and second grade was on the first floor, with third, fourth, fifth on the second, sixth, seventh, and eighth on the third, ninth and tenth on the fourth floor and eleventh and twelfth on the top.
When I got to my locker on the east wing I spotted my best friend Julia McCarthy. Julia and I have known each other since we were born, Julia being born five months before me. We hadn't become best friends till sixth grade, but our dads had been friends since before we were born and had us playing together before our memories were even fully developed.
"Hey Lor-ee!" Julia cried as she all but ran to my side. "Wazzup?" her voice masked in concern, I must look pretty upset; I could usually lie about my mood to Julia. I then told her all about what happened at home, and what Kelly had even said.
"Lor, you're making a big deal out of nothing. Kelly is just mad and so, just let her say whatever. It's not like you're actually going to tell your dad that. Are you?" Julia asked in shock.
"No! Of course not. It's just I… I want sooo badly to say that to him myself. That's all," something in my voice must have kept Julia from saying more because we walked the rest of the way to AP chem in silence.
Max
"Yo, boy! Get your ass out of bed. You're going to be late!" my dad banged on my door. Something told me that he just probably got home from some bar.
"Like you even a damn," I muttered, a little too loudly.
"What was that boy?" my dad yelled getting angrier.
"Nothing, nothing…sir. I'll be right down."
"That's what I thought," he answered, and I could tell he was smirking. I tossed my sheet to my side and headed to my bathroom. After a quick shower I pulled on my black dress pants and buttoned my white shirt on, pulled on my red and black blazer with the Summerwood coat of arms on the left—a sun with a weird looking lion in the middle. Put my shoes on and at least tried to straighten my hair that "looked like a black mop on top of my head". Grabbed my bag, black berry curve and headed down to the kitchen.
I walk down the grand staircase and thought of my mom. My mom died right after my brother was born so I don't remember all that much. Except that she loved everyone and everyone loved her. She had gotten really really sick when she was pregnant with my brother Ash and died like ten minutes after he was born. All I remember was how she was beautiful and kind and gentle.
She was also the only one to keep my dad's drinking problem at bay.
We lived in a large white house, with large pillars surrounding the large porch. My mom, who loved old 1800's romance novels, had my dad build a house that you could only find in a romance novel. My mom had our house based off the 'Gone with the Wind' plantations. When my mom died before the house was complete, my dad was devastated, he couldn't even move into the house when it was finished. That was when my father's drinking problem came back in full swing. When I enter our kitchen I saw my brother eating breakfast, my father's butler/driver/assistant making some coffee and my father yelling into his cell. As I walked up to the large island I asked—
"What's his problem?" Usually when my dad came home from a late night at a bar, he crashed on the couch in the sitting room, which was used only for the sole purpose to keep my dad from crashing on the floor.
"He client doesn't think he will be able to pay your father so…" Willham answered in his thick British accent. I could only sigh. My father was a big time lawyer, but he was also a cheat. He would always tell his clients his fee was low, but he would never tell them that if they won the case the fee would be doubled and if they lost the case the fee would be tripled. Many of his clients wouldn't be able to pay it and my dad would always freak and threaten his clients till they paid. It always pissed me off when he did that, and it always surprised me when he kept getting clients.
My mood suddenly dropped, it always did when my dad acted this way.
As my father left the roomAsh muttered—
"You would think people would learn by now." Ash and I ate our breakfast in silence, both trying to ignoring my father's yells in the next room. We were almost done and about to leave when Willham said—
"Max, remember, you have Writing Salon after school, and please, please don't miss this one. You professor is threaten to kick you out." Damn. I had football practice after school and I couldn't miss a practice or I would be kicked off the team. Now I was really pissed, I hadn't been to a writing salon since school started and Professor Teckmeyer was really annoyed with me running into the room when the salon was over. I wanted more than anything to skip football, but one practice missed without a written excuse I would be kicked of the team and Willham certainly wasn't going to write me a pass.
I sighed and replied, "Willham, I'm not going to be able to make the meeting today. I have football practice. I'll just see if Professor T. can give me an assignment to do after class. And if not, I'll just quit the Writing Salon." I shrugged, acting as if I didn't care about Writing Salon. I tried to ignore the shocked stares of my brother and butler.
They both knew how much I liked to write more than anything
, even though they didn't know what I wrote about.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ash asked under his breath.
That did it. As if I was pissed enough, my brother just had to ask that question. As I jumped up, pulling my fist behind my head, I felt a cold hard hand grab my fist. I turned my head around and saw my dad standing behind me giving me his legendary deadly stare. I pulled my hand down and grabbed my stuff as I walked out to my brand new black Aston Martin Vanquish. I threw my stuff into the back and started the car, waiting for my brother to leave the house. Ash was promised a Porsche Cayman Aerokit for the new school year, but it wasn't in yet, or something.
"Dude, dad's fuckin' pissed, and your little stunt back there didn't help." Ash stated as he got into the car.
"Whatever, dad can do what he wants. Like I really give a damn," I lied. Of course I gave a damn, what I said to my dad could either do me good or bad when the day ended.
"Why do you always act like the badass you aren't?" Ash asked. "You go to school and scare the shit out of everyone and piss off the teachers then go home and write you feelings down in you diary. Seriously man…pick a life and stay in it."
"Shut up. You don't anything. And I don't even have a diary, dumbass." I replied, getting mad. My brother may think he knows me, but he can only guess.
As if I would really tell someone what I was really thinking. If I did I would become the nerd of Summerwood, going from hero to zero in a second flat, and that I would never be able to handle. And who was Ash to accuse ME of having a diary.
Ash and I ride the rest of the way to Summerwood Country Day in silence and before I've even stopped the car, Ash is out and headed to his small group of friends. Ash is a hypocrite, a fact I have just realized. Ash goes to school and acts like the smart sweet soccer player, but once the day was over he would go out and do god knows what. I can only guess that he would go and smoke a joint with his smart-lackey/badass friends.
I parked my Vanquish into a spot and got out; I headed to my locker, thinking of my newest play. It was a retelling of Shakespeare's play "The Twelfth Night" and it was pretty much all I could think about.
As I put my books away my girlfriend Tia walked and wrapped her arms around me.
"Hey, baby," she cooed in the sexiest voice I ever heard. Her voice did things to my body I thought were only done in books. I turned around and gave her a quick kiss, or at least it was meant to be quick, instead she grabbed the back of my head and kissed my harder. I could feel my heart beat faster and my blood flow quicker, I wanted to do things not appropriate to even think about in this "holy" school.
"Alright, alright," I literally panted, pulling her off me. "Not here ok? A teacher could see us…." I saw the look she gave. The—want happened to the big-shot asshole that I know—look. "A-a-and we could get detention and I have football baby, detention will only get me kicked off the team." There I fixed my mistake. Hopefully she didn't notice it. Tia wasn't all that observant.
"Alright, see ya later," she sighed making sure she emphasized her robust chest. She turned around and waved a little sexy wave and winked, making my poor body excite like crazy. I sighed, I was really hoping to brake up with that cheating big-chest whore right now, but it was too late, going to have to wait.
The guys didn't understand why I wanted to brake up with the hottest chick in school, but I couldn't them that I needed to focus on my play which I promised Dean Burns I would have by the new year. They would think I was on crack or something.
"Yo, brotha," Sean Williams, my closest and most trusted friend, called out from the other side of the hall. "What's up man? You break up with that little whore of yours?" He asked as he clapped my hand.
"No not yet, she ditched me before I got the chance. Thinks she knows?" Just a few days ago I caught Tia hooking up with some random guy at a St X party and could barely wrap my head around it. Sean said the best thing to do was to dump that whore on her ass like no tomorrow.
"Man. I bet you could hook up with anyone at this school," Sean stated
"Whatever dude," I replied, knowing what was about to happen next.
"Wha bet?" Tyler challenged?
"I bet Su Fletcher," Freddy Terreo, another friend alleged. Su Fletcher was the ugliest girl in the senior class. She was a squished pug like face full of pimples with large, unflattering glasses that magnified her gray eyes. She had mousy brown hair that looked like it was never washed nor brushed and the only person at this school that actually wore the knee-high gray and red socks with the optional mary-janes. And then there was the whole lipstick dilemma, She could never put lip-stick on correctly and had it all in her braces, which had so much ortho work in it. That poor girl had no hope.
"Freddy," I hissed under my breath, but it was too late, soon all the guys were betting on who I could hook up with. "Gretchen Medser!" "Mary Wise!" "No! Donna Petilli!" I was getting so pissed. Why did Sean have to go and do this, the last thing I needed was a bet, I had way too much on my mind already.
Then Sean got real excited.
"What about Lori O'Malley!"
"Ooooo," all the guys cried out in unison.
"Thousand dollars says you wouldn't be able to get into her pants by the New Year's Dance," he challenged again.
"Ooooo yah!" the guys cried, knowing my history with O'Malley.
I had no idea what to do. Refuse the bet and be called a wimp and teased at for the rest of senior year, or give the girl I hated what she deserved. Which actually didn't sound too bad, "Fine, I'll do it!"
"Deal!" Sean yelled over the howls of the guys. "Get into her pants and have her fall in love with you by the New Year and you'll be thousand dollars richer, if not…" Sean shrugged a gin on his face as he walked backwards down the hall.
"Sean!" I cried, but the sound of the bell drowned out my voice and I was forced down the hall with what seemed half the student population to my AP chemistry class.
"Adam…Adamson…Baker…Brewer…Coulters…Craig…," Mrs. Patterson drowned on. I really don't understand why I'm in this class, I barely seemed to pass bio last year, and not one of my friends made it into an AP class, well except Sean, but he had third block chemistry. While the teacher drowned on I tried to recopy my Spanish notes from last night, I had done them half asleep, but two girls behind me kept laughing at God knows what. I was about to tell them to shut the hell up when—
"Dude, the teacher's calling you," some nerd called Eric said.
"Smith…"
"Here Mrs. Patterson," I called, raising my hand.
"Next time Mr. Smith I won't call more than twice and I will count you absent," she replied sharply.
"Sorry ma'am," I muttered trying to block at all the giggling and laughing coming from the girls behind me. I turned around to see who kept laughing and saw two totally surprising girls. I didn't mean to sound rude but the way the two looked and the way they talked and laughed together just wasn't something you would expect.
The shortest one out of the two had short bouncy auburn curls, and large green blue eyes, she wore huge silver earrings and a large beaded necklace that really didn't look very good on her. She wore black pants and a loose white button down with an extra large blazer that was very ill-fitting on her small frame. Didn't even look like she had a chest her clothes were that large.
The other girl had thick golden brown hair that was pulled into a loose twist; she also had large eyes, but were violet instead of green. She had high cheekbones and an aristocratic nose with a little make-up on. This girl didn't have a hint of jewelry on and wore the signature crimson polo and a black "4inches above the knee-skirt". She was easily the prettiest out of the two.
The short girl looked at me shyly and giggled, a reaction I was very used to by now, but the other girl glared at me as if telling me to go to hell. I turned around in shock; no girl had ever looked at me like that. Who was she and what was her problem?
"Okay class, today we are going to start our first quarter projects," Mrs. Parkinson said passing out papers to the front row to pass back. "You will have to pick one of the topics out from the paper and do a ten page essay on it, a 2 minute speech and poster board. It will be due in three weeks. To make the project easier, you will be working in pairs." Everyone started talking and pairing up. "I have picked out partners for you," she continued, everyone groaned. "Oh, be quiet. Adam, Zimmer…Adamson, Turley…"
Of all the classes to have to work with a partner, it had to be this class. It couldn't possibly get any worse. Until I heard my name get called.
"Shaw…O'Malley," this woman had to be joking, there was no way in hell I was working with her. Lori and I battled against each other for the top of the class since second grade. The teachers thought it was cute, at first, but then they couldn't stand us and eventually decided to split us up. I haven't had a class with her in years. Also her dad, some Pete dude, got my dad thrown into jail years ago and I still haven't heard the end of it. So our dads hate each other as well.
"Mrs. Patterson?" I asked out loud. "Is there anyway I could…..oh, maybe work by myself?" I tried to look as sweet and innocent as ever but this old hag was to good for that 'cause she replied—
"No, you must work with Miss. O'Malley. If I let you work alone, everyone else will want to work alone and I am having none of that, do you understand?" Mrs. Patterson asked. The way she spoke was like having sticks of ice cold needles stuck into you and it sent shivers down my spine.
"Yes ma'am," I sighed. Well if I had to work with this girl, she had to move her ass, not me.
"Miss. O'Malley! Do you wish to fail this quarter?" Mrs. Patterson screeched, her voice suddenly cutting through the sounds of everyone else, making the whole room go quiet.
"No ma'am," a quiet voice answered behind me. I stared pointedly at the wall, determined not to look this girl in the face. But as she walked towards my desk I couldn't help but notice the black skirt I saw on the one girl behind me. When I looked up it felt like the wind was knocked right out of me, 'cause sitting right next to me was the pretty brown haired chick sitting two seats behind me.
What had happened to the short-haired brace-faced girl from fifth and sixth grade? This girl was to hot to be Lori O'Malley. Then I remembered the bet. Maybe this wouldn't to bad after all.
"Okay I know you don't want to work with me as much as I don't want to work with you and I really need this A, so why don't I just do all the work and you can get as much credit as I do. Okay? I'll do all the work at home and really our parents and the teacher won't know the difference," she said harshly.
Whoa whoa whoa, wait a minute. Did she just give me the get out of jail free card? Was I off the hook? Did she seriously say that I could sit back and watch while she did all the work? Sweet!
But then I would look like an idiot during the presentation and I had no idea what she was saying. And did she volunteer to do all the work because she thought I was an idiot and couldn't do this project on my own. Didn't she just hear me ask to work by myself? No lunatic would do that if he had no idea what was gong on. Didn't she remember the battles for the top of the class when we were younger? Oh no, I was going to prove her wrong and do my share of the work, and my half will be way better than her half.
"No, I want to work on the project too. I'll look like a retard standing up there during the presentation and having no idea what's going on," I replied a little harsher than I meant.
"Whatever, just don't dare mess up, if I fail, I'm dead. Alright?" she said icily.
"What? You failing chemistry already?" I asked sniggered.
"Of course not!" she retoted. "I just can't get a C on this project, you understand pretty boy?"
Did she seriously just call me pretty boy?
"Not so sure I do actually. What would happen if you got a C?" I was suddenly very curious.
"Listen, it's not that important really, lets just get to work, okay?" she shrugged, not wanting to continue with the subject, even though I wanted to.
"Alright, baby" I said jokingly. "My name's Shaw, Max Shaw," just like Bond did in his movies.
"Ha ha ha," she laughed sarcastically. She wasn't every easy to amuse, for most girls, it just took looking at me and they melted away. Just like butter. But this chick was a different story. "I know who you are dumbass, everyone does," she shrugged. "I'm O'Malley, Lori O'Malley." Oh, so I was dealing with a smartass was I? Well two could play at that game. But just as I opened my mouth to speak the bell rang announcing the end of first block.
Lori jumped up before I could even register that class was over. I'd forgotten today was a half day for juniors and seniors. The entire class seemed more than eager to leave the room. As I pack my bag Mrs. Patterson called out,
"Mr. Shaw, Miss. O'Malley, may I see you in my office please?" My heart skipped a beat. What the hell could she what from us? I felt my hands clam up and my head sweat till it was almost drenched in sweat. What the hell was wrong with me? It's not like I don't get in trouble all the time. I get in more trouble than all my friends combined. I just didn't want to get in trouble in front of her.
But why? She was just some girl, like I gave a damn what she thought of me. But I did. I tried to pull it together and pull it off as I didn't want her to go and tell her father and have him rub it in my dad's face. That would only get me a hell of a beating.
I headed to Mrs. Patterson's office in horror, afraid what waited for me inside. All the teachers had an office that lead off from their classrooms. Most teachers tried to make their small ten by nine office seem as livelily as they could, trying to get their personality to show as much as they could. But Mrs. Patterson seemed determined not to. Her office was hot and stuffy—how she could handle it in her black long sleeve turtle neck and ankle long grey skirt, God knows—and was painted a boring dull chipped away off-white color. It had a large mahogany desk covered in papers and a bunch of filing cabinet overflowing with papers, the room seemed a complete mess. There were two small uncomfortable chairs in front of the desk which Mrs. Patterson gesture for us to sit in.
After everyone had seated I noticed that Lori looked just as nervous as me. Mrs. Patterson cleared her throat and asked "Do you two even know why you're here?"
"Yes ma'am, and I'm so very sorry we didn't get any work done, it's just….I can't work with this buffoon. He doesn't take anything seriously and I really can't afford to fail this year. My father--"
"Your father," Mrs. Patterson interrupted, "is of no importance at this moment. You two must work together, you hear? You two are my top students and I know will come up with something brilliant. But…" she stopped, looking at Lori's stricken face, "If telling your father is all that important and you are truly worried, tell them."
"What!" I cried, she was asking me to commit suicide here. "Mrs. Patterson, please, please, I can't possibly tell my dad I'm working with her, I would be killed!"
"You know what? You two have to tell your fathers. They have the right to know."
"But but but but…." Lori and I cried n shock.
"Now I don't want to keep you any later from your classes than I already have. I'll write your guys a pass." She intervened, grabbing paper and writing us notes.
As we took the pieces of paper and headed out the door Mrs. P called out—
"And don't try to get your way out of this; I will know when you haven't told your fathers." We both left the room as fast as we could. I decided to followed Lori to her locker and we she got there I asked—
"So… where should we meet?" I tried not to laugh as she jumped nearly fifty feet into the air, but I couldn't help it.
Oh, shut up. You scared the hell out of me!" she snapped, "I was thinking we could meet at Ault Park, the playground area, somewhere like that."
"Okay. When," I asked
"My shift ends at six and starts again at eight thirty tonight, so I could met you there around six fifteen."
"Perfect. See you tonight." I said grinning—this would be interesting—and turning away to head to my next class.