Preface. I had been thinking a lot how to write this story. I didn't want to write it in third person, but at the same time I didn't want to write the whole story from only one person's point of view. So in the end I decided to write like Foxrainbow did – every chapter in different person's narration.

I hope you'll like this story, but if you don't - I'm sorry, I tried my best.

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Power Inc /Raven Hill Mysteries.

Nick

(Sunday)

I was lying on my bed, staring out the window. Avril Lavigne was singing in my ears. The rain pelted on the window, streaming down the glass. Tops of gum trees were rocking from side to side in the wind. The sky was almost dark because of a huge thunder cloud, which covered the sky as far as the eye could see. A flash of lightning lit up the room with a yellowish light, the thunder crashed a second or two later.

The song finished and another song "my happy ending" started. I sighed and closed my eyes. This song matched my mood. Yeah, so much for my happy ending. Our relationship with Kathie had been getting more and more strained lately. I don't know what had been going on between us; I just felt that something was wrong. I felt that we were drifting apart from each other. Further and further. Too often she invented excuses not to meet me. But damn, I still wished she were there with me.

The lightning flashed again. I pulled the earphones out of my ears and grabbed my mobile phone. I found Kathie's number in the contact list to write her a message and invite her to go out together. I'd composed the message, but instead of pressing the button "send", I pressed "cancel" and threw the phone aside. I couldn't swallow my pride and take the first step to reconciliation. Yesterday, trying to save our relationship, I'd invited her to go out somewhere, but she'd refused, saying that she wasn't able to go, because she had to spend the Saturday evening with her family. Maybe she didn't lie, though. Her parents often have family parties, where Kathie and her younger brother are to present. Maybe they really had had such a family evening yesterday, but that didn't make it any easier for me to bear.

I guess that was because somewhere deep inside I envied her, because she had what I didn't have – good, warm, friendly relationship with parents. Yes, I spend much time working with my father in his office after school, but he acts as my boss there, not as my father. Mum lost herself in the charity work. Yes, she still dotes on me, as if I am a seven-year-old kid, but it only stresses me out. I think from the outside we look like an ideal family, but I feel more and more lonely. I hate to admit it, but I was angry with Kathie because she had such good relationship with her parents, which was more than I was able to have.

I always had everything what I wanted to have. Everything but one important thing - freedom. My room was filled with modern equipment – computer, laptop, a brand new cell phone and everything else what I wanted to have. My parents are quite rich. I don't know if my friends envied me, but they always thought that I was in the gang and worked with them only because of entertainment. They reckoned that I didn't have to earn money to buy something, because I got a lot of pocket money, and even if it wasn't enough, my parents bought me everything what I asked after all.

But they were wrong. That is they were right – well, sort of - but I had to pay for this. The world of rich people is distinguished by reticence. At luxurious parties these people look ideal, smooth, trying to show that their family is a model family. But there's another life, which other people don't know. The life, these families try to hide under the guise of ideality. Life full of lies and hypocrisy.

I also did my best to show that I lived a perfect life. And I still do. I always was successful in it. At least my friends and classmates thought so. And almost none of them knew that I was overprotected by my family and that I actually couldn't make my own decisions. My father thinks he knows better than I do what is good for me. And I obey him. In everything. Always. I don't have any choice. Sometimes I try to object, but who I am to tell my opinion? When I make a faint effort to object or to tell what I want or don't want, they correct me, saying that I am too young to understand what is good for me. More and more often I find myself lying alone in my bedroom, full of modern machines, expensive clothes and other things, and realising that I want to cry with loneliness.

I glanced out the window again. It was dark outside, the thunderstorm went on raging. Lightning flashed one by one, the thunder cracked, one roar rumbling into the next. Branches of trees were rocking in the violent wind. My cell phone buzzed, notifying me that a new incoming message had been received.

I grabbed the phone, hoping that it was a message from Kathie. But it was a message from Richelle. She said that Liz, Tom, Elmo and Sunny were going to meet in a cafe, and asked if I wanted to come too.

I smiled, remembering how many strange and funny things we had gone through together. How many times we were in a deadly danger, or in a funny or an uncomfortable situation. My friends – Richelle, Liz, Elmo, Sunny, and even Tom – always meant a lot for me. I'm not saying that they were ideal. No, quite the opposite, the gang could be incredibly irritating in their different ways. Tom constantly drove me mad by his stupid jokes and playing the fool; Sunny was obsessed with this endless sport stuff so much that it looked as if nothing else mattered for her; Elmo, thinking of nothing but the Pen, as if it was something special, not just a local paper; and Liz was so soft and kind, her bleeding heart was ready to do everything to help anyone, she came across. We were very different, but at the same time these differences helped us to stay together.

About four years ago Liz, Tom, Richelle, Sunny and I founded our job agency Teen Power Inc. Not that I needed pocket money, as I had said, my parents always gave me enough. But I didn't mind earning some extra money with my friends. I really liked to work with them, it was just so great and funny, though often, even too often, it was either very boring job or deadly dangerous.

Elmo joined the gang during our first job. He was a very shy guy. Before Teen Power Inc I hardly spoke to him, because he usually quietly sat at the back of a classroom with a book or a textbook; in classes he spoke only when teachers asked him; and all his spare time he spent in a library or at the Pen office.

Liz and Sunny were best friends. Bleeding heart Liz felt sorry for all and sundry, she could sympathize with both a homeless kid and a lame dog, and a criminal and a millionaire. And she always rushed to help anyone, who was in trouble in her opinion. Sunny and I had to bring her down to earth all the time.

Calm, with iron nerves Sunny, quite the opposite, tried not to meddle in other people's affairs. She hardly was interested in anything what wasn't connected with sport, but nevertheless, everyone valued and considered her opinion. Sunny and I never were close. I thought that she was too mad about sport, and she, in turn, considered me a rich, arrogant kid, who cared only about himself and who wanted to look cool anywhere anytime. I don't think she thought much of me. And she didn't think much of Richelle, either, viewing her as a silly, pretty doll. Except for Liz, she also got on with Tom. I don't know why, but she always found his jokes very funny, and thought that Tom himself was a nice and kind guy.

As for Tom, he liked Sunny more than anyone else in the gang. Tom is very stubborn and capricious, and if he listened to someone, it was Sunny. I always thought that he'd better stop playing a fool and pay more attention to his image. But I, as well as most of other people, wasn't a role model for Tom. The main role model for Tom was his father, a loser, in my opinion, who'd left a good, white-collar job for the sake of living on a seacoast in a little house. Tom dreamt to repeat his destiny and also wanted to paint these worthless pictures.

Liz, Tom, Elmo and Sunny were my close friends, but Richelle was the closest. I know it strange, because they say that there can't be any friendship between a man and a woman. Maybe that's true. After all Richelle wasn't just a friend for me.

She was a very nice and pretty girl when I first saw her. She and Liz went everywhere together and attracted a lot of attention to themselves. Mainly because of Richelle, of course. Gradually Tom, Liz, Sunny, Richelle and I became good friends and started to spend much time together. By that time Liz and Richelle had quarrelled for nothing and that was when Richelle and I began getting closer. We both tried to stay independent, showing that we didn't need anyone and that we were on our own.

But no matter how much I tried to show my independence, deep inside I acutely realized that I needed friends, and that I was glad that I had them.

Unfortunately my friends saw me as a cool guy, who had a piece of ice instead of heart and who was devoid of feelings and desires. But if I've learnt to hide my desires so well, it doesn't mean that I don't have them. Maybe that was the reason why I felt so close to Richelle. We chattered over the phone for hours and often met separately from the others.

But one day something happened. Something that completely changed my attitude to her. It happened when we went to Banyan Bay to Tom's father to paint his new house. It was supposed to be a nice and safe journey, but as usual we ended up deep in troubles, what almost cost Tom his life. Fortunately this story had a happy ending, but in one of the last evenings in Banyan Bay, something unusual for me happened.

I clearly remember this evening as if it was yesterday. It was a warm summer evening, the weather was great and the sea was calm. We decided to go for a walk together for the last time. Liz asked me to call Richelle, who had gone out onto the deck behind the house. Sliding the glass door open, I stepped onto the deck and saw her. She was standing on the edge of the deck, looking out to sea. The sun was setting. Richelle's long fair hair literally blazed like white gold in the orange evening sunlight. Her short dress, of the same colour as the sea water, waved in the wind, stressing her perfect figure and long legs. She stood there in the background of the sea and sunset, and it seemed that she was sparkling all over in this reddish light.

For a while I couldn't take my eyes off her. I just couldn't destroy this grandeur. Then Richelle turned and saw me staring at her. She smiled and said just one word "what?" But her smile made my heart stop beating for a moment, it was as though something snapped in me. My heart filled with a strange feeling. I offered to have a walk along the beach without the others and she agreed.

We walked until late in the night, sat on the sand, looking at the night sea, wandered barefoot along the tideline and talked on and on. We talked about everything – about our families, our friends, our relationships and other things. She told me her problems and her dreams, and I told her mine. It was getting dark in Banyan, but my soul was starting to see what I had never seen before.

That was when I realised that I wanted to have this girl by my side. When we were sitting on a sand, watching small waves lapped on the beach and swept away, looking at the stars, that were blossoming in the black sky; when she was so close to me that I could feel a faint scent of her perfume, I understood that all what I wanted at the time was just kiss her. Why didn't I do that? Well, I don't know. I just didn't dare. Maybe because Richelle had become a very good friend for me by that time and I just was afraid to destroy our friendship. Besides, she was dating Sam at the time.

Anyway, I didn't kiss her, period.

After this journey we went on working, solving mysteries, going to parties and movies. I didn't tell Richelle about my feelings. She seemed to be happy with her Sam. He was older than we and had his own car. Richelle likes such guys. I don't think that she would leave him for me. I decided to forget her and also started dating girls. I never had lack of girlfriends. I can't complain of my appearance, plus my father's money attracts girls. Gradually my childish feelings to Richelle faded, though sometimes she still stirred my imagination.

Two years or so later Fox Beaven, this stuck-up guy, came to our school. Richelle fell in love with him as soon as she saw him. She had broken up with Sam by that time. As far as I know Fox's parents worked in TV and knew some TV producers, what of course, had a great impression on Richelle. She raved about him on and on. How many times I noticed her looking at him secretly, her eyes full of love and admiration; she watched him when he answered in classes or walked by. It drove me insane. Elmo, Liz and Sunny also were fond of him. They wasn't goggling at him the way Richelle was, but all the same, expressions on their faces when Fox talked to them didn't fool me.

Unlike them I hated him. Probably mainly because of Richelle's feelings for him. Partly because he attracted attention of those girls, who had been giving me amorous glances before. And maybe because he was topping all the classes he was in, where I had been one of the best students before; and because the way the teachers crawled to him. I hate to admit it, but I was madly jealous.

That was why I completely rejected to admit him into our gang. I just wouldn't cope to see him so often. Richelle was seriously angry with me for that. She didn't call me, didn't answer if I called her, didn't talk to me at school and always went away when I came into a room.

She didn't admit her mistake after all. Even when he practically destroyed our Teen Power Inc., Richelle continued to defend him. I don't know if there was something between her and Fox. Gradually we became good friends again, but she avoided speaking of him.

I shook my head. I'd better stop remembering the past. It all happened long ago. We are not the same now. We all changed somehow. I have other things to think about. Kathie, for example.

The thunderstorm had stopped. Sun was shining through wet leaves. The sky was bright blue; the wind was carrying away scraps of the black cloud. Drops of water on leaves sparkled in the evening sunshine like diamonds.

I jumped off my bed and went downstairs. Mum, dad and their friends, Anna and Stephanos Terzises, were sitting in the lounge room near the fire place, laughing and sipping whisky. I came up to them and sat down on an edge of an armchair. Dad and Mr Terzis were discussing something, mum and Mrs Terzis were giggling cheerfully about some gossips.

My phone buzzed again. I glanced at the display. It was another message from Richelle. She asked if I would come or not. Probably I should go; otherwise it would be another lonely evening in my room. I found myself thinking about it too sadly. I guess at the bottom of my heart I hoped to spend this night with my family, like we'd done a few years ago.

No, I don't say that I had problems with my parents. I know that Mum and Dad love me. And I know that they would be glad to spend more time with me. Just with Dad, constantly telling me what to do and how to live, and Mum, constantly asking me if I'm warmly dressed or if I've done my school assignment or where I'm going to go and when I'm going to come home, is so depressing. I don't even remember the last time I told them about my friends, my problems, my successes and all that sort of things. Sometimes I painfully want to sit with them near the fireplace, tell them what's going on in my life, ask their advice or just to look at the fire together. I want to be closer to them, but at the same time I avoid spending evenings with them, because it always turns into evenings of lectures how to live a decent life.

After school I often go to my father's office, helping him and learning our family business. Dad had never even asked me if I wanted to work with him or not. I guess he thought that it was obvious. He's already chosen the university for me. The Department of Economics at one of the most prestigious universities in the country. It had not even occurred to him to ask me if I wanted to study there. I tried to object that I'd like to learn information technologies, what was perceived as teenage nonsense. As he put it, one day I would understand. It was his favourite phrase.

I glanced at my phone. I had to decide if I'd go to meet the others. I decided to go. Tomorrow is Monday, it means that the nearest three or four days I will spend with my father in the office, and I couldn't help noticing that this thought oppressed me. I texted to Richelle that I would come. Then I stood up to take my jacket.

'Nicko, are you leaving?' Mum instantly looked up at me. Of course.

I nodded. "I'm meeting with my friends."

"When will you come?" the next question was asked immediately.

"I don't know," I shrugged vaguely.

"Nicko, could you pass the papers to Mr Devis, our lawyer, please?" Dad asked me. "He wanted to read these papers today, but I don't think I should drive today," he pointed, grinning, at the half-empty bottle of whisky.

"Sure, Dad," I nodded, suppressing irritation, which was rising in my chest. Mr Devis lived on the next street. If Dad didn't want to drive, he easily could walk there and give these papers to the lawyer himself.

Or maybe I'm unfair to Dad, a sudden thought crossed my mind. Maybe I find faults in him, blaming him for my problems. After all it won't take much time for me. I can meet the others as soon as I give the papers to the lawyer.

Anyway, I took the file with papers from Dad's study, and saying goodbye, went outside.

"You're lucky to have such a wonderful son," I heard Mr Terzis say before the door closed.

I came up to my Toyota Corolla and threw the file onto the front passenger seat. Dad had bought me this car to my eighteenth birthday a month ago. This car wasn't new, it was five year-old or so, but I really liked it. It was my own car, and when I had received it, I got more freedom. At least I could drive somewhere to be alone for a while. And anyway, this car, even though it was a little bit old, was much better than cars of most Raven Hill High students, what also meant a lot for me.

I started the engine and drove onto the street, still thinking. As I'd said, the lawyer lived on the next street. So ten minutes later I'd already handed the papers over to him and returned to my car. I leant back in the driver's seat and having thought for a while, I punched in Kathie's number, intending to invite her to go with me, but at the last moment I cancelled the call again.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a car drove by and stopped in front of me. I was sitting, staring at my cell phone and thinking if I should call Kathie or it'd be better to speak with her tomorrow at school.

Suddenly I felt a sharp hit and push from the front. The car in front of me backed up into mine. Having thrown the phone away, I leaped out of my car and groaned. Both headlights were shattered, the bumper and hood were crumpled. A young woman clambered out of her car, looking incredibly apologetic and started speaking something to me.

"What… What the hell are you doing!?" I roared at her. "Who taught you to park like that?"

"I'm… I'm… Sorry, I thought there was enough place," she faltered.

"Check the mirrors before moving," I growled. "Fuck! What am I supposed to do now?"

"Well, there's no serious damage," the girl babbled. "The insurance company will cover it."

I buried my face in my hands, groaning. Money wasn't the problem. My father was the problem. Yes, the insurance company will pay for this damage, but what my father will say… Two weeks ago I rear ended a car on the parking lot near the shopping mall. There wasn't much damage, just a couple of scratches on the bumper. But before that I had almost scratched dad's car. So my father said that if I had another car accident, he would take my driver's license away.

The girl went on apologizing and murmuring something about the insurance company. I heard my phone ringing in my car. I grabbed it from the passenger seat. It was Richelle. She asked when I would come, because the others had already gathered.

'Sorry, Rich, I can't come,' I said, clambering out of the car and angrily slamming the door. I told her what had happened. She seemed to worry and asked if I was all right. Gloomily looking at the broken headlights, I told her that I was okay, what I couldn't say about my car, so I was going to spend the rest of the day dealing with the insurance agent and with my father.

I said goodbye to Richelle and hung up. The girl stood by my car, looking at me in a frightened sort of way. I sighed and dialled dad's number.