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Authors: Katrina Alba

Seasons

BOOK: Seasons
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Copyright © 2014
Katrina Alba

Seasons

 

Cover Design by
Pink Ink Designs

Final Edits by
Rogena Mitchell-Jones, Manuscript Service

Proofread and formatted by
Brooke Cumberland

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

 

All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electric sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher or author constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from this book (other than for review purposes) prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at
[email protected]
. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

 

FBI Anti-Piracy Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

 

 

 

Dedication

 

For my mom. If someone tells you you’re beautiful enough times, you will begin to believe it. Thank you for making me believe it.

 

For my Grams, always my calm, my conscience, and my safe place. Missing you every single day, but in my heart always.

 

 

Prologue

I was always a planner. I knew exactly what my life would look like when I grew up. My parents had been happily married for over twenty years, and I thought I wanted to be just like them. I also wanted to grow up and become a big shot city lawyer. I was going to marry the man of my dreams and have the million-dollar family. Together, we would have a house with a white picket fence. We would have one boy who looked just like him and a little girl who looked just like me and live happily ever after.

That was my vision of my future as a young teen...and then I grew up. My parents split unexpectedly, tearing away the view of everything I thought I knew about the world, and leaving me forever changed. Not every happy ending lasts forever. Parts of the life I had dreamed of came true. Those are the parts that matter, right? I didn’t meet my Prince Charming right out of the gate. It took me a few tries until I knew what it even meant to truly love someone. Each love, come and lost, taught me a lesson. Just when I thought I had life finally figured out, there was someone else to show me that I still had a lot of learning left to do. Life is not always easy, and it’s not always beautiful, but it’s always worth the struggle. My name is Brynn Carsten and these are the seasons of my life…

 

“Spring passes and one remembers one’s innocence.

Summer passes and one remembers one’s exuberance.

Autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence.

Winter passes and one remembers one’s perseverance.”

 

~Yoko Ono

 

 

Spring

The softest ribbon of cool air ripples over all of my exposed skin. I can feel the slightest tickle of the grass beneath me. The sun warming my face displaces me to my happy place. I can see the bright light through my lids. If you look at the sun through closed eyes, it looks like a child might draw it, rays shooting out in every direction. A slightly stronger spring breeze rolls over me. It gently lifts my long, loose, wavy hair off the sides of my neck, laying it fanned out in the grass. After a frigid Maine winter, all the sensations of spring combined are the most exquisite feeling I can imagine. Signs of life finally returning from a long hibernation surround me and dandelions sprinkle the field of grass around me with yellow. There is the faint smell of rain lingering from showers the night before, but the warm day’s sun has luckily dried the ground I’m lying on. Arms folded under my head like a pillow, I stretch my legs pointing my toes slightly to feel the blades of grass tickle the bottom of my feet as I do.

“Brynn, look out!” I hear Mel shriek, bringing me back to reality a moment too late.

A harsh hit to the ribs, just short of knocking the breath out of me, rips me from my happy place. Bolting upright, I open my eyes to see a red Frisbee lying next to me. I look over to a smirk on my best friends face.

“You okay?” Mel asks, biting her lip, and I can tell she’s trying to hold in her laughter.

“Yeah, who the…” Just as I’m about to throw down some unladylike profanities, I look up to see Austin-freaking-Thomas standing over me, blocking the sun. Austin quarterback, most popular guy in school, fucking Thomas! Great! He at least has the manners to look half worried, unlike Mel, though I can tell laughter is quickly overriding his features, as well.

“Hey, sorry about that. Are you all right?” he asks giving me a sexy half-smile.

“Yeah, no biggie,” I say handing him back the Frisbee. “You know, for a quarterback your aim isn’t all that hot.”

“Well, that might be because Charlie…” he nods across the field, “…was the one who threw it. But if you ask me, he has superb aim.” He winks.

Charlie Salazar, senior varsity soccer player, comes jogging over. He has the typical lean, muscular build of a soccer player, but with broad, strong shoulders. Charlie’s dark chocolate hair and whiskey-colored eyes contrast with his sandy blond, blue-eyed friend. He has the single most perfect set of dimples I’ve ever seen, a small cleft in his chin, and a broad jaw. I know both Austin and Charlie in passing since the high school, and town for that matter, aren’t
very big, so everybody knows everybody. Charlie and Austin are both seniors while Mel and I are juniors. With his long gate, Charlie makes it over to us in a few strides.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to take you out. It’s Brynn, right?” Charlie apologizes seeming embarrassed.

I nod my head at a loss for words, which is rare for me. Generally, I have a quick tongue that tends to get me in trouble. Charlie is slightly disarming because he’s gorgeous, but he has these huge, almost sad eyes. He looks directly into your eyes when he talks, and you can just tell he’s genuine, unlike his best friend Austin, who is notorious for being a charmer and a player.

“Brynn Carsten and I’m Melanie Delacruz. You can just call me Mel. Don’t worry about her. She’s fine, no worries,” Mel chimes in, breaking me from my ogling.

“Yeah, it’s all good. Just watch where you’re throwing that thing next time,” I say with a smile.

Charlie gives me a shy smile in return. “Well, it’s nice to formally meet you both. Sorry again about the Frisbee.”

“So, are you ladies going to the party at Wyatt’s house tonight?” Austin inquires. “His parents are in Chicago this week, and he has a killer hot tub. Supposed to have a fully stocked bar and a few kegs on order for tonight.”

“Most likely. Not like there is much else to do around here,” Mel answers.

“I don’t know, we’ll see. Maybe we can stop by.”

“You got a hot date or something, princess?” Charlie is standing quietly and locks eyes with me as Austin asks.

“Maybe I have a prior engagement,” I say haughtily.

“No, she doesn’t. We’ll be there,” Mel says and lightly elbows me in the side.
Thanks. A. Lot. Mel.

“Well, I look forward to seeing more of you ladies tonight then.” Austin turns around to run back to where they were playing, but then stops. “Oh, and don’t worry about bringing a bathing suit for the hot tub,” he throws over his shoulder. Charlie gives me a small, apologetic smile and turns with a goodbye wave to follow his friend back to their game of Frolf.

Once they are out of earshot, I turn glaring at Mel only to see her unexpectedly glowering right back at me. “Melanie Delacruz! Way to throw me under the bus! What the hell was that?”

“Bitch, when Austin motherfucking Thomas personally invites you to a party, you say yes! Period! God, that was sick. They were both giving you the eyes. You lucky little whore! Austin. Thomas.
Squeee!
I cannot believe that just happened! We need to get out of here and figure out what we’re going to wear tonight!” Mel declares excitedly. She’s cute when she’s excited, and I’m pretty certain that Austin was giving her the eyes rather than me. Melanie is a stunner. She’s a few inches shorter than I am with jet-black hair and almond shaped eyes of an exotic color. She’s of Filipino descent, so she’s tan year round and basically, looks like a gorgeous hula girl.

“Okay, first off, no one was giving anyone eyes. Second, I don’t know if I can or want to go tonight. I have a paper due Monday,” I say, gathering up my belongings to start the trek home. “And have you forgotten that I have a boyfriend? So, even if there were eyes being given, which there weren’t, it wouldn’t matter.”

“Come again? You have a paper due…ON MONDAY?” she asks baffled. “And your boyfriend goes to another school a few towns over. Ho’s in different area codes, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

I roll my eyes and start heading home. “Look, Ian is a nice guy. I don’t know why you don’t like him.”

“Do you? Like him, I mean?” Mel asks with a serious face. “Or will he end up in the pile?”

Do I like him? He’s attractive, an athlete, smart, and we have fun together. But do I see a future? No, not really. There are zero sparks. Truth is he will probably end up in the two-month pile. That would be any number of guys I’ve dated, but end up dumping when they try to get too close. Oh, and by too close, I mean too frisky generally, but this also includes guys who told me they loved me after a week, had bad breath, ugly feet, a mole in the wrong place, or any other dooming quality I deem a deal breaker.

“I like him. We have fun together,” I say, trying to convince us both.

“Oh, he’s so going into the garbage pile,” she chortles.

We are both startled when a cobalt blue pickup truck slows to a crawl alongside us. The passenger whistles, makes catcall noises, and obscene gestures before the driver then speeds away.

“Was that?”

“Yes. That was Austin and Charlie.” We both laugh so hard we’re crying. When we compose ourselves, I tell Mel to call me later to nail down plans for the party tonight. Then I blow Mel a kiss that she exaggeratedly catches and pockets. When she waves goodbye, I turn down my long, winding road home.

I start my walk home, which I don’t mind, especially after a long winter. I revel in the warm weather and have always enjoyed being outdoors whenever possible. Truth is I’m sort of a girly tomboy. I only have one brother, Brett, who is two years older and no sisters. Because of this, I grew up fishing and playing in the creek. It’s sort of like I have a split personality. My mother has insisted on all things frilly since her only girl was born seventeen years ago. Due to her craziness, I love shopping, shoes, purses, and all things girly. However, the other side of me still likes to get dirty, play sports, fish, and hike. I spent my early childhood outdoors as much as possible and it’s still where I feel the happiest.

I love the street I live on. It’s both winding and mountainous. Old homes and huge trees line both sides of the street. The residents of Heatherwood, Maine take great pride in their homes, so all the lawns and trees are manicured to perfection. As a result, at any time of year, Harbor Lane is simply breathtaking.

My favorite part of my street is a small break in the homes. On one side, there is a small creek that runs out to the harbor. When I was five or six, I discovered a hidden place near the edge of the creek. There is an unusually close cluster of pine trees, and if you duck under them, the cliff of the creek juts out a little further there than the rest of the edge of the brook. Atop the cliff, there is a huge rounded boulder, which is where I come to do all my important thinking or just to get away.

On my way home, I sneak under the trees and plop down on the boulder to watch the low stream of water run down the creek. I haven’t been to my thinking place in a few months simply because of the cold weather. The events of the day invade my peaceful thoughts as I sit watching the tiny minnows attempting to swim upstream.

Is Mel right? Do I just throw all guys in the garbage pile? I know she’s right on the money. I do dispose of every person who tries to get close to me. In my defense, I mean, I’m seventeen. Aren’t you supposed to date a variety of guys to figure out what you want?

I continue watching the stream as memories of this place flood my head. The only other person who ever knew about my thinking place was my childhood best friend, Devin. Devin was the boy next door, and we were inseparable since we were toddlers. Devin and I basically lived at one another’s houses. We were constantly riding bikes, swimming, playing video games. He would even give in and play Barbie’s with me on occasion. At seven-years-old, he gave me my first kiss under the pine trees on our cliff. Ten years later, and I still miss him. A few months after our kiss, Devin found out he had leukemia. He passed away in the middle of the next school year.

I get up and brush off my bottom before I find myself thinking too much about it. It’s time to finish the journey home so I can get ready for tonight.

 

*   *   *

 

I walk up the slanted driveway to the old white Victorian style house I have lived in since I was born. Even though it’s just Mom and me living here now, this is still home. The house has a partially enclosed, wraparound porch with two rocking chairs, and a big red front door. There is a weather door, which is glass or screened, depending on the time of year. This door automatically slams behind me as I walk through it letting Mom know I’m home.

“Brynn, is that you? I’m in the kitchen,” Mom calls. I walk down the blue hallway toward our old-fashioned country kitchen. “Hey, B, how was the commons?” she inquires.

The commons is a huge park area with fields and courts for recreation. My mom, Cathy, is my older twin. She has worn her hair in natural, long brown waves since I can remember. The only striking difference between us other than age is our eye color. While I have chameleon eyes that seem to change color between blue, green, or grey depending what I wear, Mom’s eyes are brown. We are about the same size, and we have been sharing clothes and shoes since I hit puberty. Time has been good to her. She looks more like my older sister than my mom. What gives her age away is the bifocals perpetually hanging around her neck or resting on the tip of her nose connected to one of those old lady jeweled chains.

I kiss her cheek and take a seat on one of the kitchen island’s barstools. “Hi, you’re home from work early. It was so nice to be outside, Ma. The weather is perfect today! Mel and I just spent the day lying in the grass reading and enjoying the sun, finally.” I can feel my excitement oozing out of my pores as I ramble.

“That sounds lovely. When the weather gets nice, I always wish I weren’t cooped up in an office.”

Mom is a secretary for a decent sized law firm in the downtown Heatherwood area. I feel guilty knowing she less than loves her job, but it’s a good position and it pays the bills. She has not had much of a choice since dad picked up and left four years ago with his dental hygienist, Barbie. Yes, that is seriously her name. Barbie is a redheaded, no-class bimbo, who is actually closer to my and my brother’s ages than she is to my father’s age. She had just finished college and started at Dad’s dental practice four years ago. Apparently, she likes old balls and money, because she sure jumped on my dad pretty quick. My guess is she needed someone to pay for the huge new water balloon set on her chest. Two months later, my dad completely dropped his two kids and wife of twenty years for that twenty-three-year-old twat. He pays a pittance in child support, which is even less since Brett is over eighteen now. I haven’t spoken to my father in over a year now.

“Don’t you have some vacation time coming up?” I ask.

“Yes, I do have vacation time coming up, which reminds me. Brett called just before you got home. He’s coming home in two weeks for his semester break before summer courses startup. Maybe the three of us could plan some bonding time?” Mom asks hopefully.

“Sure, Mom. Sounds good,” I agree. “Mel and I are going to a party tonight if that’s all right?”

“A house party?” she asks with an eyebrow arched. “Will there be parents supervising this shindig?”

“Shindig? Really, Mom? Exactly how old are you?” I tease. “I don’t believe there will be parents. I think I remember hearing something about them being out of town.”

BOOK: Seasons
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