Chapter 1

“Yeah, dad, I know,” I said into the phone while driving along Highway 19 up to my best friend’s house. “We are just going to go to the movies and then I will be home, you don’t need to worry.”

I sighed as I listened to my dad ramble on and on about the safety of driving in the rain and the hazards of being a new driver. I guess he had the right to. After all I just turned sixteen a couple of days ago and this will be my first time driving on my own and then mix in the inclement weather that popped out of nowhere this afternoon. But I was not about to let the weather change my plans to go to the movies with my best friend, Christy Hanson. I promised my dad when I backed out of the drive way that everything will be okay. Nothing to worry about was my last words as I rolled down the window and sped out of the drive.

Yet, within five minutes of driving he calls and then every five minutes thereafter. Talk about being disruptive. If I get in trouble I will automatically blame him. But Like I said, he had the right to worry!

You see, my dad has worried about me from day one, ever since my mother walked out on us when I was one. Teenage marriage and baby just did not mix, or at least that is what Dad always says. On top of the “never have sex and find love” speech before the age of twenty-one. That is when I usually roll my eyes and walk out of the room Don’t get me wrong, I love my father, he is the only person that I have in my life and believe me I would have no idea what to do with myself if something were to ever happen to him.

“Um, Dad,” I said trying to break into his one-sided conversation. “Don’t you think me talking on the phone, in the rain, while driving is bad enough?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re right, just call me when you get to Christy’s house.” My father says, but I can still hear the hedge of worry in his voice.

“Okay, bye Dad,” I closed my phone shut and pressed down just slightly on the accelerator anxious to get to Christy’s house.

Christy and I have been best friends since the first grade and ironically we always had the same teacher and classes that is until this year when we entered our sophomore year of high school. Even with school coming up on holiday break, we still have a hard time accepting that we will go almost six hours without seeing each other while in the same school. Our schedules never crossed, talk about frustrating.

She and I are complete opposites, which is probably why we became friends and so quickly. She comes from the perfect family. You know the kind: mom, dad and brother. Don’t forget the picket white fence and the golden retriever that greets you at the door. Whereas my family consists of just me and my father, Joaquin William Ashton, no dog, no fence.

Christy’s parents both come from the upscale side of town and have very respectable careers, never having to worry about where the money is coming from and where it will be going. My father has always struggled with life, but has made a wonderful living as a local artist. His work is one of a kind, literally. He focuses on abstract art, give him a few broken pieces of metal and he can create waterfall.

Then there are our looks and personality. First there is Christy with blond hair blue eyes, the epitome of beauty. Tall, slender and the guys love watching her walk, run or just about anything else to see her breasts bounce. She is outgoing; always looking for the party and never has a hard time finding friends. She is captain of the cheerleading squad and is perfect in everything that she does. I on the other hand, I am plain Jane. Nothing to wonderful to write home about with my shoulder length brown hair with natural curls that I can’t stand and blue eyes that always seem dull. Not to mention that I am straight in every way possible, no curves what so ever to speak of. I do well in school though and I am the Captain of the Volleyball team but I am very shy and tend to stick to myself on more than one occasion.

I smiled as I pulled into the Hanson’s circular driveway. I love being here at their house, it felt like a home, nothing like my townhouse on the other side of town. The house was decorated for the holidays with a million lights in all of the trees and along the roof line. I could see the Christmas tree in the front window with a massive amount of presents already packed tightly together. Chances were there would be some tucked around for me as well.

I shut off the car and then reached for my phone to call my dad like I promised. It rang a couple of times before it finally went to voice mail. I left a quick message, knowing that he was probably in his studio painting. I climbed out of the car and walked up the steps to the front porch lined in holly with the bright red berries glowing in the soft lights.

I knocked and then opened the door. It has been customary rather quickly for me to not even bother waiting for someone to answer the door. Mrs. Cheryl Hanson told me after the third time of coming over to not bother with it even at the age of seven when my father would drop me off. At first, it felt wrong, but it grew on me eventually.

“Hello,” I called out as I walked into the foyer.

“Hey Lyra,” Mrs. Hanson said walking in from the kitchen wiping her hands on a dish towel anyone looking at Christy and Cheryl for the first time could very easily mistake them as sisters. “Are you excited to be out and about driving all on your own?”

I smiled and tucked my hair behind my ear as Cheryl came over and gave me a small hug. “Yes, but it’s not as fun with my Dad calling me every five minutes.”

“Ah, he’ll get over it. This is a hard adjustment for him,” Cheryl said walking over to the sitting room. “Speaking of your father I need to give him a call about Christmas dinner again this year. It will not be the same without the two of you here.”

I followed Cheryl into the sitting room and sat with her. I enjoyed being with Christy’s mom, mostly because she was the closes thing I had to a mother. It drove Christy bonkers that I can sit for hours just talking to Cheryl.

I could hear Christy coming down the stairs just as we were discussing what I was planning on doing with my two weeks off from school for winter break, actually it’s more like what Christy and my plans were since we are very rarely separated from one another.

“Hi Lyra, you ready?” Christy asked walking in like she always does: perfect.

Her blond hair was piled high off of her neck and pulled into a tight bun. She had a on a pair of dark jeans and a white sweater. If you told her that white was not the right color for this time of year, she would just laugh at you and go on her marry way. White was her color.

I stood up and walked over to her and linked my arm with hers. Together we walked over to the door with Cheryl hot on our heels.

“Now, remember to buckle your seat belt and drive safely,” she said as we climbed into the car, both of us giddy at how this will be our first time to be free of having our parents drive us to the movies.

“We will,” I said closing the door.

Once in the safety of my father’s 2001 Mitsubishi Eclipse the two of us squealed with joy as I started the engine. I took in a deep breath and started the car inhaling the scent of the detailed leather seats. As part of my present, my father washed his car up and gave me my own key to use whenever I wanted.

“Smells brand new,” Christy said picking up my cell phone and handing it to me.

“Yeah, dad had it in the detail shop all morning trying to get it as clean as possible,” I took my phone and groaned when I saw four missed calls from him. “Not sure if it was for me or if he would have visible proof if I brought back in less than pristine condition.”

Christy laughed as I called my father back quickly. I assured him that everything was fine and that I was just leaving the Hanson’s. I nodded at all the right times and made the promises that he asked from me. When I finally slammed the phone shut we were both laughing.

“God, your father is so over protective,” Christy said as I backed down the drive and turned onto the road. “I’m glad my dad is not like that.”

I looked at Christy for a split of a second. “Your father is very rarely ever home.”

Christy shrugged her shoulders before reaching down to turn on the radio. I knew how hard it was on Christy for Greg Hanson to be traveling all the time and the sad thing is I had no clue as to what he really did for a living and I do not think Christy does either half the time. Whatever it was he made a great living at doing it.

“So what is the plan for tonight?” Christy asked trying to find just the right song on the radio.

I backed down the driveway and turned out onto the large oak lined streets that were also covered in miniature lights by the Hanson’s Homeowners Association, being very cautious to look both ways.

“I thought that we were going to the movies,” I said as I began to pick up speed and head toward Cascade Mall, the only mall with in miles of our town that had a theater.

Christy shifted in her seat and smiled just slightly, a smile that I knew could not only get us in trouble, but chances were it would mean me being grounded with no car until I was old and gray or until Dad died, whichever came first.

“No,” I said before Christy could even open her mouth. “I promised my dad that we will be going to the movies.”

“Movies schmovies,” Christy said with a wave of her hand. “Your dad will never find out, trust me.”

I looked over at her for a second then projected my eyes back to the road in front of me. “I remember the last time you said those words and I was forbidden to talk to you outside of school for two weeks when you talked me into TP’ing your neighbor’s pool house. The answer is no.”

“Ah, Lyra,” Christy began to whine and I knew if I looked at her again her big blue eyes will be droopy and all puppy doggy. “We never have any fun.”

I rolled my eyes knowing her definition of fun was not even close to my definition. I sighed, can’t hurt anything to just have an idea of what was going through her head. “What were you thinking?”

Christy clapped excitedly and began to bounce in her seat. “So, Rocco Stanley is having a little bash at his house, you know to celebrate the last day of school and all. No parents….”

All she had to say was the name Rocco Stanley, the Lacrosse captain and the one guy on campus who is known for having parties that always gets busted up by the cops.

“Absolutely not,” I said. “We are going to the movies.”

Christy fell against the back of her seat with a huff and crossed her arms. “Party pooper.”

I stuck my tongue out at her. “Well, it’s my birthday and if I want to be a party pooper that is fine by me.”

She grunted one last time and I knew that within a couple of minutes Christy will find something else to talk about and we will be okay. I looked down and flipped the radio on pushing the presets until I found my station K101. The current song was just coming to an end when the next song began to pick. Christy recognized it almost the second the first word came out of Brittney Spears mouth.

“Oh, I love this song,” Christy reached down and turned up the volume.

Like I said a matter of minutes and Christy was onto something else. She never had much of an attention span. I let my fingers beat to the rhythm of the song that my father loved to listen when he was a teenager, but Brittney made it popular again with the next generation.

“I love rock and roll, put a dime in the jukebox, baby,” Christy and I sang along with the chorus our bodies shaking with the beat.

Christy leaned over and pounded her hands on the dashboard and bopping her head in perfect rhythm signing in tune and everything. Perfect. She turned it up just a bit more and I knew better than to have it so loud. But I didn’t care at the moment, I felt like I was living, out of the shadows of my overprotective father. We kept singing all the way to the end of the song and just I looked down to flip down the volume when it happened. My life coming as I knew changing forever.

“Lyra, watch out,” Christy yelled as I looked back up and put my hands back at ten and two on the steering wheel but it was too late. The tree that snapped in half and landed right into the middle of road blocked me from going around it or stopping reasonably. I put my full weight of my foot onto the break and turned the wheel more on reflex, the car fishing tailing and sliding right into the huge oak. The passenger side slammed hard and fast into the tree a branch crashing in through the front window.

At the force of the impact my body slamming against the steering wheel and then back against the seat the seat belt pulling tightly against my chest. I let my head rest for a second trying to piece together what exactly just happened, or if it even happened at all. I pulled my fingers away from the steering wheel still in disbelief.

I tried to move the branch from around me so I can look at Christy, but the sharp pain that was shooting down my side prevented me from moving.

“Christy,” I moaned. “Christy, are you alright?”

I could hear a small noise and was relieved that she was alive.

“Christy do you know where I put my phone,” I said trying to look around for it and finally spotting it down on the floorboard. “Christy, keep talking to me, please, stay awake.”

It became cold quickly and in the first time in all of sixteen years it began to snow in the North Atlanta suburbs. I leaned my head back, praying that help would arrive and soon. I did not know what Christy was like since she took the full impact but I could tell that by the way she was moaning it was not going to be good.

All I knew was to try and keep talking as long as we were talking, I knew that we were okay, but eventually the tiredness and the cold won out and I closed my eyes.

“Christy?” I said quietly my head dropping down to the steering wheel and the sound of the horn was deafening, but I didn’t care.