Chapter 1

“Christine Elizabeth,” mom called from down stairs. “You need to get up or you will be late for school.”

I pulled the covers over my head and let out a groan. Not because it was time to get up, not even because mom used my full name, but from the fact that it was the first day of school, and a new school at that. I closed my eyes, praying for just five more minutes. Five minutes to collect myself.

“Christy?” Mom’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“I’m up, mom,” I said with a sigh of defeat.

I lowered the blankets and looked out the window, another sunny day in the Florida Keys, not that I am complaining, I love the sun and the beach. I just wished that I was allowed to go down to the water. My mom and I moved here a week ago, a charming little beach house with a great view of the sparkling ocean and the line of small islands. At first when she said that we were moving, I hated the idea. I am almost sixteen and we have moved a total of five times. Ever since dad died, mom has been afraid to stay in one place. She says the memories are too hard. But how do you make memories of someone in a new place, if they were already dead? I know that must sound cold, but the truth of the matter is I do not remember my dad much. He passed away when I was three. Mom and I stayed with grandma and she moved where ever mom decided to go.

That is how we made it to Florida. Grandma passed away a few weeks ago and of course the memories were hard. Every time I look in the mirror, I can see my grandmother looking right back at me. From the thousands of baby pictures we could have easily been twins, down to the same birth mark that was on the outside of my right ankle. It was grandma that told mom to move to Florida, that the time has come. I still do not understand what she meant by that, but mom must have, because here I was, getting ready to start my sophomore year at Key West High.

I gathered up my clothes and headed into my bathroom, which was a definite plus in moving here: my own bathroom. I had it painted and decorated, like the rest of my room in a matter of two days. Ocean green walls with a teal blue trim, all the doors, including the closet door where a bright beach white. I even drew a mural one night on one of the walls of the sun setting from my window. I was even able to capture the very few palm trees swaying in the wind.

I quickly showered and wrapped myself up in a towel. I looked into the mirror and sighed. After running a brush through my hair, I pulled my long brown hair into a high ponytail that bounced when I walked. Applied just a bit of shadow to accent my almond shape eyes and trying to bring out the bits of green. Mom says it is a waste of time, my eyes are brown and no matter how hard I try, I cannot change them. You can’t blame a girl for trying though, right?

I pulled on my jeans that hung lose around my hips, but fit snugly on the rest of me. After putting my shirt on and lacing up my Sketchers, I actually looked half way decent and ready to go to school. One last look in the mirror, I realized how plain I really looked. My figure was as straight as a stick, the only thing I had going for me was that I was not a late bloomer. My breasts were already large for someone my age and most of the time they were the first thing that many people saw. Well, fine, I will be honest; they were the first thing that guys usually noticed.

I walked out of my room, with my back pack swung over my shoulder. Mom was already sitting at the table enjoying a cup of coffee and reading the paper. She did not really have a job per say, has always been a stay at home mother, even after dad died. We were not rich by no means, but with all the inheritance that mom was given after dad, and then grandma, we have been well off. She was great with the stock market, buying and selling like a pro. I guess it pays off to pay attention to the business page.

“You look good,” Mom said putting down the Wall Street Journal and looking up at my outfit. “I see you chose green.”

I nodded and went over to the pantry to grab a muffin. I sat down, grabbing the milk from across the table. If there was one thing I hated it was useless conversation. To me, life was too short for pleasantries; one must get to the point and not waste the precious air that we breathe.

“So, are you excited about the first day of school?” Mom asked.

“I am sure it will be the same like all the others five schools,” I said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Christy, I promise this will be the last time we move,” mom looked down at her watch and then back up to me, she went to open her mouth, like she wanted to say something else but was interrupted by the sound of the bus honking its horn.

“Bye, Lily Pad,” I said standing up and then giving her small kiss on the cheek.

Mom laughed at her nickname that grandma has always used and followed me out the door.

“Try and have a great day, make lots of friends,” I nodded and headed out the door. “Oh, and Christy, remember, never go into the water.”

I climbed the bus and took a seat. I leaned my head back and thought back to what mom said. All my life I have heard the same saying, every time I went out. I am not sure if she was afraid I would drown or get hurt. I have never even been in a swimming pool. I just knew that she was protecting me from something, but what that was I did not know. But here was the kicker; we always moved near the water’s edge. I could never figure out if it was mom’s or grandma’s idea. I know that they were never telling me the whole story. I could always hear them talking in hushed voices, when they thought that I was asleep and somehow the conversations always went back to me. How my time was coming, that I needed to be told. That was grandma. Mom on the other hand kept insisting it will skip over me, like it did her. That I did not need to know about it. The only question that always went through my head at the time was: what was it?

When grandma passed away a few weeks ago and mom approached me about moving, I groaned internally. I really did not want to move anymore, especially since I felt like grandma would slip away from me and that I would lose her somehow.

“Christy, she will always be a part of you and I,” Mom said when I expressed my concerns. “Plus, the house we will be living in was grandmas. You will be able to sense her and feel her in every room. And I promise this will be the last move.”

I huffed as I thought about how many times she has made that promise, but mom was right. The moment I stepped into our Key West home, I felt a strange presence. I even swear that when I take a deep breath, I could smell her, and odd mix of water and salt. She always seemed to smell like she just stepped out of the ocean, but I would never see her down on the beach.

The first night was the hardest; it was the night that we decided to let grandma go. She requested to be buried at sea, which to me seemed to be odd. She did not want to be cremated or buried, but have the tide wash her out. Mom seemed to have understood her request, where as I thought it was odd.

“Go back to the sea, mum, where you always belonged,” mom said as we placed her body on the beach of the high tide.

Mom and I stood there and watched as the tide lowered and her body drifted away, this was the closes that I remember mom near the water. Mom turned and walked back to the house, which allowed me to watch the waves. Just as I was getting ready to turn I heard a loud splash and looked out to the ocean. Not a single sign of grandma.

“Hey, are you going sit there all day, or do you plan on getting up and going to school?” a voice sneered out at me.

I shook my head as I looked in the most sparkling blue eyes I have ever seen. Her blond hair parted down the middle and held to the side in long pigtails. Her skin was a deep gold, like she spent her days doing nothing but laying on the sandy beaches. I already envied her and I did not even know her.

I stood up from the seat and gathered my bag. I quickly got off the bus and followed the other students. I already knew where my classes were and had a quick tour of the school last week during orientation.

“My name is Emilie Walker by the way,” the same blue eyed blond girl said to me as she matched my stride. “You’re new aren’t you?”

I nodded my head. “Christine Mitchell, but call me Christy.”

“Well, Christy it is nice to meet you. How long have been in the Keys?”

“About three weeks,” I said pulling out my schedule to take a look at which number homeroom was in.

“So, who do you have for teachers,” Emilie asked looking over the paper I held in my hands.

“Oh, um…homeroom is Gavin.”

“Cool, Nikki is in your homeroom, she is sort of hot tempered, but she’s cool, she and I are best friends. What else?”

I bit on my lower lip before answering. “Biology with Smith, History with Fern, English with Colleen and…” I stopped in my tracks as I looked at the last class on my schedule. “Oh, no, no.”

Emilie stopped with me and then turned to see what was wrong. “I don’t understand what?”

“My schedule, I was supposed to be in track and field for PE, but they have me in Swimming.”

“Ok, what’s wrong with that?”

I shook my head, I was no way going to explain to a stranger that my mom has a weird obsession with me and my lack of water. “Nothing, I will take care of it later.”

Emilie walked with me toward my homeroom and I had a funny feeling rise in my stomach at the idea of possibly making a friend. My first friend since moving down here.

“Well, maybe I will see you at lunch. Enjoy your first day of class,” Emilie turned on her heel and began to walk away, I allowed my eyes to follow her for a moment and then rested them on her right ankle. My eyes narrowed as I looked at the mark, knowing that I have seen it before.

As I turned to head into homeroom, I could feel my birthmark letting off a strange heat. I looked over my shoulder to see Emilie looking at me. That is when I realized where I have seen her mark before. I had the same one, in the same spot.

“Can’t be,” I said to myself and then walked inside the classroom.