Burnwood: The Dragon Arum

© 2015 Sarah La Rose. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

www.sarahlarosebooks.com

Published by AuthorHouse 08/13/2015

ISBN: 978-1-5049-2610-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-2609-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-2611-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015912604

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifthteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty- Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

About The Author

For my best friend Andrew Gray for your unshaken belief in me, for my good friend Andrew Erdman for taking the risk that started this all, and for my three beautiful children for being a constant reminder of how blessed I truly am.

CHAPTER ONE

Not again! Why is this happening to me?

I turned to my side and hid beneath the cover of my thick, feathered pillow, but it wasn’t enough. The sound pierced through the fluff only slightly muffled. I sunk further into my teal-covered duvet, still holding the pillow tightly against my ears. It was useless- nothing could stop this torment.

Uncle Felix!

It was a few seconds before the door swung open and his freshly shaved face appeared. He always looked so handsome in the mornings when he was preparing for court. His brown hair fell just short of his chin and was combed back into a low ponytail, which always seemed to get caught in one of his numerous dress shirts. This particular morning he wore a light blue shirt and the shiny grey tie I had bought him last Christmas.

Annabelle, you’re awake, he said with mock surprise. He propped himself against the door frame with his arms folded, and a grin only morning people could wear this early in the day.

Well, that is precisely what your off-key singing will do to a person, I grumbled. So if you wouldn’t mind…

Tone it down? Not a chance. He crossed the room, carefully dodging the array of boxes standing in his way, and snatched the blanket from on top of me.

The cool air felt like ice against my skin. I shivered and used my giant body pillow as a poor substitute.

What are you doing? I shouted.

Annabelle, you’re acting like you’ve never endured a Monday morning before.

You don’t mean… I couldn’t bear to say the words. They were simply too horrifying to think of. He couldn’t possibly mean…

That’s right! It’s your first day of school.

He smiled and it made me want to launch across the room in full-on attack mode.

But you always give me three days to adjust to a new town before I have to go to school. We just got here last night. I need more time.

I know that’s what we usually do, but today’s the first day of school for everyone, and I think it would be better for you to start alongside the rest of the kids here. You will be able to start the year just like everyone else.

I hated the first day of school, usually because it was never the first day for anyone else but me. The awkward silence and wavering stares were enough to make anyone dread such a day, and I was no exception. At least this time I could blend right in with the masses and avoid the uncomfortable introductions that usually commenced the humiliation.

I sighed. Okay.

But it wasn’t okay. How could he expect me to be ready for my first day at school already? I had a routine, a system, a list of things to do before my first appearance. Without that routine, the success of my first day was in the wind. As if moving for the zillionth time wasn’t enough!

That’s the spirit! he said, ruffling my hair with his fist. I’ll let you get dressed, but be quick. I need to be in the city for court in a couple hours.

Why didn’t we just move to the city then? I rolled to my side and flung my feet over the edge of my bed, propelling myself up. Why did we move to this shabby little town if you have to be in the city anyway?

I don’t work in the city, he said. Like I said yesterday, I work here, in Burnwood. I just have court appearances in the city.

I pulled open the window curtains and peered out at the row of Victorian-style homes lining the street, and then at the vast space covered only by trees and bushes as far as the eye can see.

I still don’t see why we couldn’t live in the city. Surely there has to be a greater demand for lawyers there than there is here.

He ran his hand through his hair and briefly looked away. Just get ready for school, okay?

I stared at him, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. There was something very off about his behavior, and it had started the second we drove into this ancient, little town.

He left the room and I went to work getting ready for school. Most of my stuff was still packed away in boxes and I had to scramble through my suitcase to find something suitable to wear. Finally, I settled on a navy blue, high-waist pencil skirt, and a thick-strapped white striped tank top. It was plain, so I added the red belt to my waist to add some color. The heels would have to do the rest.

I maneuvered around the stack of boxes scattered around the house until I found the little kitchen at the back of the house.

The house was old, so it creaked with every step I took. It had a simple Victorian style, but modern and newly renovated fixtures. The three bedroom, two-story house was small, but it was more than enough for just the two of us.

Ready, I announced entering the kitchen.

Great! He carried two paper plates to the dining room table. There’s not much to cook with so this will have to do.

I really hate these seedy things on the top but I’m guessing there’s not much better kicking around, is there? I bit into my bagel, ignoring the crunchy feeling of the seeds in my mouth.

I’ll have the refrigerator full for you when you get home, he said as he held the front door open for me.

I nodded and followed him to the car.

If you want we can stop at the town square and get you something else.

I’m not so sure we should trust the culinary abilities of anyone in this… I scrunched up my nose distastefully and continued in this town.

I meant it as a joke, but the way his face dropped made me wish I hadn’t said anything at all.

You should try to be more open-minded to Burnwood. It has more to offer you than you think.

I laughed. I knew I shouldn’t have, but it just came out of me like a catapult.

I seriously doubt that, I said, taking another bite of my half-eaten bagel.

He didn’t reply and part of me, that overactive conscious of mine, begged me to be quiet, but I never listened to that part of me.

Why are we even here? I blurted out. There’s nothing here. You have to drive into the city for court everyday…

It’s not every day, Annabelle. He was quiet for a moment. I only need to drive into Portland once a week at most.

The city would be better, I said, hardly recognizing the desperation in my voice.

He glared at me and then he blinked and his hazel eyes softened. You’ll make new friends here. You’ll see.

Doesn’t really matter, though, right? I stared out the window with my arms folded tightly across my chest. I mean, why make friends when another move is inevitably going to uproot me again.

He sighed. Like usual, the numerous abrupt relocations were clearly not something he wanted to talk about.

Things are different now, Annabelle.

How?

They just are! He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened.

I pouted silently until we pulled in front of a three-story brick building. It was huge with freshly painted white windowsills across the entire front of the school, which glimmered so brightly I couldn’t look directly at them. The entrance had three sets of large wooden doors, which swung violently as students made their way inside. The yard surrounding the school was so large that it looked more like a park than a field.

This is it? I said, staring up at the castle-like structure.

It was far larger and in much better shape than I had anticipated. The windowsills sparkled under the sunlight and there wasn’t a single shingle out of place. Even the large rustic doors at the front seemed in good repair as a flood of students rushed passed them.

Oh no. No, no, no! Crap!

Felix looked over his shoulder and then the other, frantically scanning our surroundings. What’s wrong?

Plaid. That’s what’s wrong! I twisted around and reached across the back seat until my hand felt a long leather strap. I yanked the duffle bag onto my lap and ruffled through it until I found my red flip flops.

What are you doing?

Look around- jeans and plaid. That’s what they’re all wearing. I kicked off my heels and slipped on my flip flops.

He took one look at my outfit and burst into laughter.

I narrowed my eyes. I’m glad you find this so hilarious.

He coughed, trying to resume his composure, but even so a slight grin remained imprinted on his face.

You could’ve given me a heads up that everyone here dressed like… well, I don’t really know what to call that, I said as my eyes followed a slim brunette girl dressed in the traditional plaid and blue jeans.

He raised his hands defensively. I didn’t know.

I unpinned my hair and shook it loose. I opened the tiny mirror on the car visor and wiped the shimmering peach eye shadow from my eyelids.

He laughed. I guess you’re going to need a wardrobe change and, dare I say it, new shoes.

The words hit me like a train.

New shoes. You don’t mean…

I don’t think you’ll have any use for heels here.

I looked out the window to survey the crowd once again. He was right. There wasn’t a single student in the area with heels- just flats, sneakers, and flip flops.

Should I box up your collection and send them away?

Don’t you dare, I shot back. I’ll store them in my closet.

Your closet is too small for that many shoes.

Then I’ll store them in your closet.

He raised his brow and all signs of humor drained from his face. His eyes trailed off to the massive brick building in front of us and mine followed. The herd of plaid had made their way inside the building, leaving the school yard looking vast and empty.

Want me to come in with you?

I whipped my head around and stared at him in disbelief.

You’re not serious. As if being the new girl isn’t bad enough. You come in there with me and the next thing I know I get labeled a gold-digging hussy and you a cradle-robbing perv.

He leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair. The Boston mishap of your freshmen year.

When I was a child no one ever questioned our relation to one another, but as I entered my midteens the age difference between Uncle Felix and I just wasn’t great enough to deter stares and rumors. He still looked like he was in his late 20s, and in my high-heels I could almost pass for 18. It wasn’t long before ill-informed assumptions made their way around the school. It was eventually cleared up, but not before a significant amount of embarrassment.

Well, I guess I better get going then.

I opened the door but my foot barely touched the ground before I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder.

Wait, he said, grabbing my cellphone from my hand. In case I’m not back by the time you finish here, use this to get home.

I rolled my eyes. I know how to use Google maps.

Yeah, but I bet you don’t remember the address. He punched in the address and slipped my phone into my bag.

Thanks, I said, managing a small smile.

He winked. See you later kid.

I nodded, but my feet didn’t move. I forced the lump in my throat down and closed the car door before I second guessed myself and jumped back in.

He unrolled the window. Hey, you’re going to like it here. It’s going to be a whole new beginning for you.

I sighed. A new beginning that would end like all the others.

CHAPTER TWO

I found my hand hovering over the brass handle of one of the giant wooden doors.

I could turn back right now and run.

I had the address in my phone and it probably would only take 20 minutes to walk home. But, that would only buy me a day, maybe two, if I could muster up enough tears to convince Uncle Felix I needed more time.

I took a deep breath, grabbed the handle and swung the heavy door open.

Inside, students filled the halls with chatter and laughter. I could only see a small portion of the building, but I could tell that it was much larger than it looked from outside, and that was already intimidating enough.

I noticed a window-lined wall to the right. The glass on the door read: Administration.

The door chimed as I stepped inside and a dark-haired secretary with circular glasses and a floral print dress looked up from her desk, peering over her glasses. Annabelle Kennedy?

She knew my name?

I approached the desk cautiously. Yes.

She giggled. Don’t be frightened child. It’s not every day we get newcomers.

Oh? I asked. It’s just such a large school.

Ah yes, but we take kids from the small rural areas around Burnwood. There’s quite a few.

She spun around in her swivel chair and reached into the file cabinet behind her. When she turned back around she had file folder in hand.

This is your class schedule. It was a quick do up since your registration was only three days ago, but if you’re uncomfortable with any of your electives we can try to find a place for you somewhere else.

She opened the folder and pulled out a single sheet of paper and held it out.

Thanks…

April Hawthorne. The school has this thing about students calling the faculty by their first name, but I’ve managed to get the okay on Miss April.

I smiled. Well, thanks Miss April.

If you want to take a seat, Mrs. Crawford will be out in a minute.

I started for the row of chairs lined against the glass wall and stopped mid-way. Who’s Mrs. Crawford?

She laughed. Sorry. Like I said, we don’t get many newcomers. Mrs. Crawford is the acting principal at the moment. Mr. Langley had a terrible accident during the summer, but we’re hoping he’ll make a full recovery.

I nodded and walked over to the window. I was too anxious to sit down, so I stared out into the hallway at the crowds of students slowly dispersing in every direction. Again, I was reminded of the way my fitted skirt and loosely curled blonde hair set me apart from the rest of the student body.

Or maybe not…

Our eyes met from across the hall as he casually leaned up against the grey painted lockers lining the hallway. He was tall with short light brown hair and warm hazel eyes. He had a strong, lean build and unlike everyone else, he wasn’t wearing a stitch of plaid. Instead, he wore black jeans, a black T-shirt, and a black leather jacket.

At least I wouldn’t be the only person to stick out around here.

I wondered if he was new as well. He didn’t look like he belonged in a town like this. He looked like he belonged to one of the New York school clicks that always irritated me with their over-inflated egos and materialistic images. Better yet, he looked like he could be their leader.

Annabelle?

I turned to find a short heavy-set woman with a mocha complexion and curly brown hair standing behind me.

I’m Mrs. Crawford, she said as she slicked back a few grey streaked curls behind her ear. I trust that you and your uncle have settled in?

Yeah, we’re definitely working on it, I replied uneasily.

Well, I am sure Burnwood will grow on you the way it has on me. Now, Miss April has provided you with your class schedule.

She didn’t pose it as a question, but I nodded anyway.

Well then, I shall show you to your first class. These hallways can get a little confusing in a school this size, but I’m sure you’ll find your way.

I glanced over my shoulder before following Mrs. Crawford into the hallway, but he was gone.

As we made our way through the maze-like hallways, Mrs. Crawford gave a quick speech about policy, regulations, academics, and sports. We passed the gymnasium, library, cafeteria, and finally to my English class at the very end of the hallway.

Mrs. Crawford opened the door and stepped inside. I’m sorry to interrupt, Ms. Kay, but we have a new student with us today. She gestured for me to step inside.

I took a deep breath and stepped forward. Ms. Kay welcomed me with a smile much too large for her thin face and lanky body. Her mousy brown hair hung in a sloppily made braid, which somehow suited her forest green dress.

Something about her style and slim figure reminded me of my seventh grade teacher, Ms. Keller, a bubbly woman with a very warm heart who was always so kind to me. Perhaps the closest thing to a mother I had ever known.

Welcome… started Ms. Kay

Annabelle, added Mrs. Crawford.

Ms. Kay nodded. Well, Annabelle, we’ve just begun so go ahead and find a seat.

I glanced over the rows of desks, trying to ignore the awkward stares and deafening silence that seemed to be following my every step. I wandered down the aisle until I found an empty desk near the back of the room.

I took my seat and pulled a notepad from my bag and placed it on the desk. I dug around the bottom of my purse for a pen and pulled out a handful of different writing utensils. I kept myself busy by doodling on a blank page, but after a short time I couldn’t shake the uneasiness I felt.

It would be easy to chalk it up as nerves, but it felt like more than that. Finally, out of curiosity, I surveyed the room; and somehow I wasn’t surprised to see the same hazel eyes from the hallway staring back at me.

Our eyes met again as he stared at me curiously.

Could what I was wearing be that different?

I refocused on my doodles, trying to ignore the burning sensation his lingering stare left on me. From time to time I would sneak a quick glance his direction only to find his eyes still boring down on me.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore!

I turned, fixing my face into the meanest expression I could muster, and I stared back at him with equally intensity.

He blinked and, as though snapping out of a trance, the hateful look dissipated into something much softer. He looked away and I did, too.

I shifted in my desk and looked straight at the blackboard where Ms. Kay had already begun scribbling in chalk.

This would not be my favorite class.

I kept my eyes on the chalkboard for the remainder of the class. I didn’t feel his eyes burning through me like deathly laser beams anymore, but I didn’t check either. When the bell rang I gathered my notepad and pens and hurried from the room.

Second and third periods flew by so fast I hadn’t even had time to consider how hungry I was; but now, standing in the middle of the cafeteria with my tray filled with an assortment of separately packaged foods, while I surveyed the area for a place to sit among the many different faces, I was starting to lose my appetite.

The lunchroom tables were either full or entirely empty, presenting equally unappealing options. There was no way anyone would welcome me to an already full table.

Crowded in here, isn’t it?

Behind me was an average-sized girl with brown eyes and chemically straightened brown hair. Her mocha complexion and pink lips emphasized her bright smile and dimpled cheeks.

I assume it’s always like this? I said.

Pretty much. That’s why we eat outside when the weather’s this nice. She gestured for me to follow her, and we walked to the far side of the cafeteria and exited through a set of heavy metal doors.

She glanced over her shoulder. I’m Jane by the way.

Annabelle.

She smirked. I know. It’s a small town.

I wasn’t sure how to respond. How much did this town already know about me?

She paused, placing a single fingertip on her chin. You just moved into the house on Dunsley Street, right?

Well, that answers it. They seem to know a lot.

That’s the place. My uncle and I got in last night.

I know.

Again?

She shrugged. I live three blocks down from you and I like to run at night. So your uncle is kind of young, isn’t he?

I guess so. If you call 37 young.

Jane crossed the concrete patio where several picnic tables were randomly placed and onto the freshly cut grass making way to a large football field. There were a few trees sporadically placed between the courtyard and the field, and a single picnic bench sat beneath the shade of one of the large oaks.

Jane dropped her backpack next to the bench and sat down. I sat my tray on top of the table and took a seat across from her.

She took an apple from her backpack and chomped into it. So where are your parents?

I choked back the water I had just sipped. Sorry, what?

Your parents… where are they?

I gently patted my chest until my lungs were clear and replied, They passed away when I was really young. Uncle Felix is my only family now.

She stopped chewing and stared at me quietly for a moment. I’m sorry. That was horrible of me. It’s just that a lot of us here only have one parent, or less sometimes, but it’s usually a case of negligence or workaholic issues. I’m really…

It’s okay. It was a long time ago.

I opened a package of carrot sticks and bit into one as I stared out across the field.

So… Jane started. Her gaze shifted to something behind me.

I turned to find three tall boys approaching the table. One was wearing a red and black football jacket and blue jeans. He had a dark complexion, probably of Spanish decent. There were intricate designs shaved on the side of his head, giving him a certain type of edginess.

The boy beside him was slightly taller and wore a black hooded sweater and blue jeans. He had short dark brown hair and brown eyes. The last boy was a face I could never forget only because I had seen it before.

This is Annabelle, said Jane. She’s new.

New indeed, said the boy with the unique hair designs.

He slid into the seat beside me, resting one arm atop the table. I’m Cruz, he said.

I inched myself over, trying to create some space between us.

That’s Alec, Jane said, pointing to the taller boy with dark brown hair. And that’s Carter.

Carter. So that was his name.

I glanced at him, not sure what to expect since our last encounter.

Wait, aren’t you in my English class? I asked Alec.

I had seen him before, and if my memory serves me correct, he was sitting next to Carter in English. Maybe he hadn’t noticed the strangeness between Carter and me. Please let him not have noticed.

He laughed. I’m in your English class… and your history class, and in your French class.

My cheeks warmed as the whole group chuckled, even Carter cracked a smile.

Sorry. It’s been a distracting morning. I gave Carter a sideways glance.

Alec sat down beside Jane and nudged her shoulder. "Don’t sweat it. You can make it up to me with a drink at the old mill grounds