The Honor Trilogy: Books One, Two, and Three of the Honor Trilogy

By

J.P.
Grider

Fated Hearts Publishing

Published by

Fated Hearts Publishing

Jefferson Township, New Jersey 07438

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to any person, place, or thing is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Copyright January, 2014

Edited by Sue
Toth

Cover Art by
Niina Cord 2013

Book One

My eyes are closed because my head hurts so much. But I can still feel his stare burning behind me – the new boy. All he does is watch me, but he never says a word. He just peers at me with those huge violet eyes…which is weird, because I have never seen anyone with that color eyes before.

Except of course for me.

Massaging my temples with my fingertips is not helping my headache, and his staring is just making it worse. I hate Algebra class. And not only because I have trouble with it. As soon as I walk through the classroom, I am paralyzed with intense agony. I can be having the most wonderful day. Well, not that wonderful. I just don't have those kind of days. But I can be having an okay day, very little pain and all, then I walk into Algebra and bam, instant migraine. My mom says it's my anxiety about actually using numbers that causes it, but I don't think so. I don't ever get a headache when I'm doing my homework.

I wish new-boy would just stop staring at me. He always has this pensive look about him. He’s all intense, and his pupils burn holes right through me. Sometimes his eyes will even dart back and forth from me to the teacher. As if Miss James and I are in cahoots about something.

No longer can I take it. My migraine. His staring. Slamming my hands on the desk, I jerk my head around and stare right back at him. "What? What is it? Why do you keep looking at me like that?" Now I'm not one to lose my cool, God knows. I am usually calm and...well, reserved. I keep to myself.  My chronic pains keep me from really socializing much and it's just easier to go it alone. That is, until I saved Tamlin from a brutal attack. Now I have her stuck like glue to my side. Not that I mind, though. Tamlin is great – lively, fun-loving, friendly. Everything I am not. But I enjoy her company. She makes my life less boring. More joyful.

"Honor Stevens," the teacher exclaims. "What was that outburst all about?"

I turn around, back towards the front of the classroom, before even getting any type of reaction from new-boy. "I'm sorry, Miss James," I apologize, face burning beneath my skin. "May I be excused?"

Miss James lets out a huge sigh, but turns to retrieve a laminated hall pass from a hook next to the smart board. She stands there holding the pass out for me to take, and I stand from my seat to get it.

"You have five minutes, Miss Stevens."

Before I even have a chance to take the pass from her hand, new-boy races up and grabs it. "I'll make sure she gets there, Miss James," he says.

"No, Ethan, that's okay," Miss James says and I see new-boy's face go white.

I take the pass from him and walk out. From behind me, I hear Miss James say, "Ethan, honey, are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost."

But I am too wrapped up in my own migraine problems to worry about him. As I'm walking to the girls' room to splash water on my face to calm down, I realize my headache is gone. Before I can contemplate why that may be, I feel a hand on my shoulder as I'm opening up the girls' room door. It's new-boy. When I turn to face him, his violet eyes are gripping mine. I feel such an intensity, I jump back a foot.

"Honor," he rasps, as if he hasn't spoken a word in days.

"Ethan, is it?"

He nods.

"What is it you want from me?" I am beginning to feel fear rise up in my throat.

"I want to be sure you're okay," he says to me softly.

"Really? You've been watching me and following me in the hallways...and...and in the library parking lot just staring at me when I was walking in these past two days...just to be sure I am okay?" I, who usually remains collected, just had my second outburst today.

His head drops in shame. "You saw me...at the library?"

"Yes, I did," I clip.

"And…you didn't report me for following you?" he asks, looking back up with a smile pasted on his face.

"Well," I say and think to myself, why not? I know he’s being sarcastic, but I really should have. "No, I didn't think of it." With my hand still holding open the bathroom door, I'm thinking, I need to hurry new-boy along. "Could we, like, discuss this, um, later? Miss James only gave me five minutes."

He nods. His eyes are peering through mine again. I avert my eyes to avoid his stare.

"Meet me by the back parking lot after school," he tentatively demands.

Hoping this is not going to be a big mistake, I agree to meet him and go about my business in the girls' room. When I return to math class and hang up the hall pass, I see stars. The migraine is back in full force and I nearly pass out. Miss James pulls out her chair and Ethan comes flying over to place me in it. What is with this guy? Is he trying to be my savior or something?

"Ethan," Miss James requests, "why don't you go get the nurse?"

"Miss James, with all due respect, ma'am, I'd rather you send someone else."

I peer at Ethan through my hand, which is covering my face, wondering why he would disobey.

"Fine," she resigns, "Tamlin, will you go get the nurse?"

Tamlin, who is right near the desk making sure I am all right, straightens her back and opens her mouth. "Certainly, Miss James." She darts out the door, willing and ready to save the day. Tamlin, ever the happy spirit.

With my elbow resting on the arm of the chair and my hand still covering my face, I see Miss James through my spread-out fingers reaching for my shoulder. But before she actually rests her hand on me, Ethan comes between us, practically pushing the teacher away.

"Ethan," Miss James snaps.

I hear him take a deep breath. "Miss James," he says weakly. "I'm sorry. I uh,
kinda lost my balance."

"You're all white again," she says.

"I'm fine, Miss James," Ethan replies. "Let's just focus on Honor here." He pats my shoulders.

"Miss James?" I hear the nurse walk in with Tamlin.

"Honor's not feeling well. I didn't want her to walk to your office until you checked on her." Miss James whispers. "She was about to pass out."

The school nurse crouches down before me. "Honor," she says. I take my hand from my face. "Tell me what's happening, dear."

"I just have a really bad headache. Really bad." I am getting embarrassed, sitting here with the whole class watching. "Can I go to your office and lie down?"

"Sure." She and Ethan help me up.

"Ethan," Miss James calls, "you don't need to go."

He looks at me.

"Fine, but Miss James," I hear Ethan once again as I'm walking out of the classroom. "Why don't you get an MRI on your head? I'm sensing you need one," he trails off as I walk further down the hallway.

"Ethan Sutherland, sit down," Miss James' raised-voice response echoes through the hallway.

In the nurse's office, while I rest on one of the cots, Nurse Wentick phones my mother at the library. This makes me cringe. My poor mother. She has taken so much time away from her job to either pick me up from school, or chauffeur me from doctor to doctor. All in vain. Test after test, scan after scan, nothing is ever found. Doctors are at a loss. They cannot figure out what is wrong with me. My pain travels, which is peculiar in itself. A couple doctors have diagnosed me with fibromyalgia, but others say that diagnosis doesn't fit. And, oddly, nothing ever hurts when I'm alone. When I'm by myself, away from people, I feel no pain.

"Your mother will be here soon," Nurse
Wentick tells me. "She's alone at the library; she's just waiting for coverage."

I nod. "I feel all right now. I really can go back to class."

Nurse Wentick tilts her head to the side. "I'm sorry, Honor. You don't look well, and I suggested your mom take you to the doctor."

"Mrs.
Wentick, really, that won't do anything. It's just a migraine." I plead to go back to class.

"Honor, you've been looking really pale lately. Very fatigued and run-down." She touches the back of her hand to my forehead. "You don't feel warm or anything," she
tsks. "I'd feel better if you got checked out."

"
Mmm." I lay my head back on the pillow, dropping my forearm over my forehead. I do feel run-down and it feels good to just lay here and close my eyes. I guess I won't be meeting new-boy in the back parking lot after school. Oh well, he'll just have to figure it out. He seems creepy anyway. Beautiful, with that thick dark-blond hair and perfect face, but creepy nonetheless.

Today when I walk into Algebra, I'm amazed. Flabbergasted, actually. For the first time since the beginning of the school year, I have no sudden attack of a migraine headache.

"Hey, Honor," one of my classmates calls out to me. "How you feeling today?"

"I'm good, thanks."

"What's with that new guy? He's so into you...in that creepy, stalker way," she mocks.

I let her comment hang there, not knowing if she is trying to be friendly or making fun of me. But it doesn't matter because I am concentrating on avoiding Ethan's gaze. As usual, he is watching me. This time he stares surreptitiously, averting his eyes instead of overtly gaping right at me.

As soon as I sit at my desk, the class bell rings. A second later, Mrs. Johnson, a substitute teacher, enters the classroom and welcomes us. "Hello students." Mrs. Johnson is a regular sub and very familiar with all of us. "Obviously, Miss James is not here today, but she did leave assignments. Please open your books to page 104."

Though Algebra is still Greek to me, it's refreshing to have a clear head through the entire period.

"Honor," Ethan calls, approaching me after class. "You look good today. Your color's back."

I gather my books from my desk and fit them into my backpack. "Thanks," I glance at him quickly but continue packing up.

"Can you meet me today after school?" His head is actually down, his violet eyes staring at the polished concrete floor.

Shaking my head, I offer a negative answer. "Sorry, I can't. My mom's picking me up on her way to work." I feel bad now. "Maybe tomorrow?" I ask, as an afterthought, to avoid hurt feelings.

"Sure." He simply nods and walks away, but the straightening of his posture tells me he is trying really hard to restrain himself from looking back.

Today is going by almost pain-free. Sure, I have sudden twinges here and there walking through the halls, but for the most part I feel good.

"Hey there, Honor." Tamlin catches up with me. "You're looking happy today."

I smile, practically skipping alongside her.

"What're you all smiles for?"

Still smiling, and yes, still hovering between a walk and a skip, I shrug. "I
dunno. Just feel good, I guess."

"Nothing hurts?" she inquires.

"Barely," I smirk, yet retain my smile.

"What else?"

"Whaddya mean, what else? That's enough. For nearly..." Quickly, I try to do the math in my head, with a little help from my fingers, "seven months..." I think, yes, it's almost April now, "yeah, for nearly seven months, I've had a splitting headache every freakin' school day. Today...nothing. That should be enough to make me happy, don'tcha think?" I nudge her with my arm. "Shouldn't it?"

She gives me this huge grin. "Sure it should. I'm happy for you."

"Hey, Tamlin." My tone turns serious. "How've you been?" I raise my eyebrows, concerned that I haven't even brought up her attack in weeks. Maybe she's been hurting and I've been too involved in my own misery to even notice.

She nudges me back, "Oh, Honor, you know I'm fine." Her arm slips around my shoulders, which is no easy feat for her, since, at 5'2", she's a whole seven inches shorter than I am. "You know I'm just grateful you were there." Suddenly it's silent and I know we're both thinking the same thing.
How in the world did I know she was in the woods, behind the school, being attacked by two delinquents?

Tamlin interrupts the silence. "I just don't understand how you knew."

My heart races a bit. "I told you Tamlin,
I don't know
. I felt afraid...I told you that...but not for me. I...I can't explain it."

She opens the door that leads to the parent pick-up lot and stops, holding up a slew of rowdy teens behind us. "But you said you felt like you were being punched and...and," she lowers her voice, "you felt like you were about to be raped." Her voice raises, "it's like you were there with me...and then...you were."

"Hey, move it up there," an impatient teenager yells.

Tamlin looks back. "Oops, sorry." And continues walking...and talking.

"I wish I knew how you knew I was in trouble."

Tired of trying to find an explanation, I respond, "Maybe we just have a really strong bond." I sigh.

"Yeah. That'd be true...if we were friends then. We barely even knew each other a month ago."

Closing my eyes, I try to calm myself from my sudden irritability. I love that Tamlin and I have become instant friends, but I am getting tired of her wondering what I can't answer. It frustrates me as well, but I try never to dwell on the things that just waste my time. Figuring out why I always hurt so much takes up most of my time anyway.

Finally I say, "Tamlin, maybe there is no definitive answer. Maybe God just led me to you. Some things are just inexplicable. Be thankful and...be glad we got a friendship out of the deal."

She hugs me one of those tight bear hugs. "You're right, Honor. You're the best friend anyone could ever have."

I peer over her shoulder and see my mom pulling up. "Tam, wanna go to the library with me? Mom's here now."

"Aw, no thanks Hon, I'm going home to dye my hair."

"Again?" Every week she seemed to come in with a different vibrant color, today it is Katy Perry blue.

"Yea, I was thinking violet. Like your eyes." She winks and kisses me on the cheek.

"You're crazy, Tam. Your hair's gonna fall out," I yell, as I run towards Mom's car. "You're going to be bald one day," I bellow before shutting myself inside Mom's Volkswagon Passat.

"Hey, Mom."

"Hi, Honor." She leans over to kiss my cheek. "Good day?"

"Yeah, Mom, it was."

"No pain?" She asks, her eyes wide in surprise.

Shaking my head, I say, "No, Mom, no pain, but it's weird. When it usually hits me bad, in Algebra, nothing happened. The really odd thing is, Miss James wasn't in today."

Mom pulls into the library parking lot, which is only half a mile up the road.

"That's significant how?" Mom wonders.

My bottom lip juts out a little as I shake my head. "I don't know, Mom. Maybe it's not, but...maybe it is."

"Is she mean, dear? Maybe she makes you nervous." Mom grabs her bag and gets out of the car. I follow.

"Nah, she's really nice." I hold the library door for Mom. "Don't worry about it, Mom." I kiss her goodbye as she heads to her desk and I head for the computers.

"I always worry, Honey."

The library is crowded as usual after school, with students taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi. At least there is a computer available. I'm one of the unlucky ones who does not own her own laptop. We don't even have a computer at home. Mom says since she is at the library every day working, there is no reason I can't come see her and do my homework there. I tell her it'd be nice to have one at home for late at night when the library is closed and I'm still lying awake bored. She tells me to read a book if I'm so bored. But really, that's all I do – read. I know I prefer separating myself from people, but sometimes, it'd be nice to have a life – even if it is just a virtual one.

So I'm working on my paper for Global Issues, which is ironically about the desensitizing of America due to the vast amount of violence on the Internet and television, when I feel someone watching me. I think,
it couldn't be, could it?
Apprehensively moving my eyes from the computer screen to the opposite end of the room, where I sense his presence, I catch him. Looking right at me. Again.

Why is he following me?
I hesitate to look back up, but I do. He's gone. What the heck? Furtively scanning the room, I jump and nearly fall off my seat when I find him directly behind me.

"Careful there," he smirks.

"Ethan," I exclaim, with my hand pressed hard against my chest. "God, you're gonna give me a heart attack."

He muffles a laugh. "Sorry, Honor. You have a minute?" His tone is more serious. He reminds me of a little boy. His hands are stuck in his pockets and he’s shifting from one foot to the other. A 6'5" little boy. I hadn't realized before how tall he is.

I roll my seat back from the computer to stand and face him, still feeling diminutive at 5'9”. He is just so...tall.

Suddenly there is a warm sensation flowing up my spine, and I realize Ethan has his hand on the middle of my back, leading me towards the library's vestibule. Though I enjoy the feel of his hand on my back, he still creeps me out with all his staring. So I lengthen my gait to pull away. Since his legs are so long, he still reaches the door before I do and holds it open.

"What's this about, Ethan? I have a ton of homework to finish," I press.

He paces the small room, trying to think of what to say. I can tell, because his eyes keep darting up to the left, as if the words will somehow appear in mid-air. After an abrupt end to his pacing, Ethan looks directly into my eyes, which by now I'm getting uncomfortably used to, and opens his mouth. "Would you go on a date with me?" He blurts out.

I blink. This feels somewhat anticlimactic, considering all the spying and eyeballing he's done since he's moved here. Subconsciously, I back away while he does the same.

"Um...no," I answer, almost regretfully. Aside from his creepiness, I do find him uncommonly beautiful. But, I don't date. Never have. And the staring...it just seems strange.

"Oh," he murmurs, his hands dipping back into his pockets. "Ok." Still looking me right in the eyes, as if he is trying to read something in them, I avert mine, feeling way too weirded-out.

"Ethan," I pause. Not sure how to say this without insulting him, I try the direct approach. "If you're trying to, you know, get a girl's attention...well, gawking at them isn't exactly the most effective way of going about it."

He says nothing.

"
Y'know, it can be kinda...creepy," I shrug.

His head nods once. "Yeah, sorry." He walks out the library door without uttering another word. I watch
him
now. He's getting into one of those new Mercedes C-class styles. A black one. Boy, my parents won't even
think
of buying me a car yet. And I turned seventeen six months ago. They say that since I'm only a junior in high school and have no job, there's no reason to have a car. The bus will get me where I need to go. If
it
won't,
they
will. Still, a car would be nice. Ethan's folks probably have none of those conservative rules that mine have.

When I return inside the library, three Jefferson cheerleaders are gaping at me, mouths wide open, face contorted in disgust. "You
know
him?" One tiny brunette asks, a disparaging tone way too apparent in her voice.

"Who? Ethan?" Playing dumb was probably the smartest way to go.

They cover their mouths with their hands as if they are twelve, and they pretend to whisper.

Attempting to ignore them, I return to my computer. From a distance, I can still hear them
whispering.

"She is such a freak," the short one ridicules. "What could he see in
her?"

"Oh, you know," a taller girl responds. "Her ridiculously long blond hair and her huge boobs," she continues mocking. "He's new. Once he gets to know her, he'll figure out she's a loser," she reassures herself.

This is one of the reasons I prefer being home schooled as opposed to being subjected to petty gossip and ridiculing. But Mom thought once I'd reached high school age, I should enter the public school system to socialize more. I really hate socializing. Not that I'm above it or anything, but it makes me anxious. Of course, my anti-anxiety meds don't help. I still get all those aches and pains too. It's just an overall unpleasant experience.

Since I can't stand gossip, especially when it's directed at me, I try really hard to ignore the three cheerleaders. Though the tiny one is giving off some horrible vibe that makes my bones hurt. But I just chalk it up to my anxiety...and a delusional mind.

Picking up where I left off on my essay is not an easy task. Once distracted, I can't easily jump back into what I was doing. Besides, I'm thinking about Ethan now. The warm sensation of his hand on my back still tingles where he touched. Disappointment sets in. I should have said yes. A date with Ethan Sutherland. I cannot help but wonder if I had made a huge mistake in saying no to going out with the bleach-blond god.