Katie Charles

Amelia liked her life.

 

Her parents were both teachers, which most kids would find annoying, but Amelia liked it just fine. Sure, her family was quirky — her 'Da' being Scottish and a bit on the Geek Chic side — and her mom was fun to hang out with. That was the way she liked it.

Then everything changed. Fast.

 

Her mom died, her family broke. If that wasn't bad enough, the university where her father taught shut down. Everything she thought her senior year, her future — her life — would be just...disappeared.

 

Now, she and Da are trying to rebuild their lives with only two-thirds of their family. She's in a new school where quirky isn't cool, and it's even worse when your father is the new English teacher and he's unlike any teacher any kid at this school has ever seen.

 

She could try to blend in and be like everyone else, but that's not Amelia. Her mom was looking out for her because on day one she met the rest of the “misfits” and they immediately welcome her.

 

And there’s Drake. He might be the lifetime kind of friend.

 

When someone is hurt, you help. That decision sets off a domino effect that could destroy everything. Once again.

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EXCERPT

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"Advanced Mathematics, my butt," Amelia mumbled under her breath as she wandered the halls. "That was Algebra II. I did that freshmen year. I should be in Statistics. Now where the crap is my locker?" The hallway was just about empty. A student here or there but not like the main hallways. "Good thing, Amelia. They see you talking to yourself and you'll really make friends fast."

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The hallway felt creepy. She heard the noise of the main hallways but no one was in this part of the school. She looked at the numbers on the lockers. They were getting close to the number on the paper with her classes on it.

 

"Aha!" she yelled as she found it. She opened the locker and put her math book in it. She wasn’t carrying it around. Heck, even opening it would be unlikely. It wasn’t the school’s fault she’d tested out of several levels of math. They were just going by standard school guidelines. Mom was a math teacher and Da was an English Lit professor. She was doing math two grade levels higher by the time she hit middle school. She sighed. “This is going to be a long school year."

 

Amelia slammed shut the locker door, and in the silence, she caught music drifting in the air. Violin music. Amelia picked up her bag and stood there absorbing the sound. It sounded like something her mother would play in the car, intricate and delicate. She hitched the bag on her shoulder and walked around the hall, hoping to find the source of music. The music changed. It was melodic now, but slightly creepy sounding, like some music you would hear in the background of a horror movie. The music got louder as she headed further down the hall. She reached a green door with chipped paint, and put her ear against it to hear if it was the room where the music played. It was.
 

The door creaked as she opened it. The person standing in the room paid no attention to her and kept playing, his back to her. Amelia looked around the room. It was a music room, but she wasn’t sure it was used very often. Music stands were toppled over and chairs were arranged in a lopsided shape of an arch, like students had left in a hurry. Amelia was never in band, but she had a few friends at her old school who always complained about the conductor letting them out late and they had to rush to class. Maybe that happened everywhere.
 

Amelia walked around the room, trying not to distract the boy playing. He was good. Really good. She wanted to see who he was. She came around in front of him, and stood silent while he played. His eyes were closed. He had what looked like it might have been a short haircut at one time, but needed a trim, so was a little long, and his hair was the same color as hers, brown. His head tilted into the chin pad of the violin. The only person Amelia had ever really watched play music was her mother when she played the piano. Her mom would just let the music flow out of her, she said. She would feel it. Mom honed Amelia’s math skills, and Da had her reading by the time she was four, but no matter how she tried, Amelia never managed to be musical. It just didn’t click. She could listen to it, and enjoy it, but not play it. Not like Mom.
 

The boy standing in front of her felt the music. Just like Mom.

He stopped, finishing the piece. Amelia thought it looked like he was letting the last note rest inside him. Her mom would say that when she finished a song. It was giving respect to the composition. Then he opened his eyes and leaned back, looking confused, like maybe he hadn't noticed she came into the room. Amelia spoke first.

"That was really good. But do you know anything with a little more kick?"

He smiled, a slow grin that made her arms goosebump, and brought the violin back up to his chin, the bow resting on the strings. The silence was killing Amelia. What was he going to do?
 

With a jerk that made Amelia start, he launched into the melody line to "The Devil Went Down to Georgia,” a song she always figured needed a fiddle, not a fancy violin. Amelia grinned. Violin, fiddle…whatever it was, this guy could play. He wasn't super tall, but could easily reach things up high if need be. He had bright green eyes. He was kinda cute and definitely knew what he was doing. By the time he hit the final pulls of the song, his hair fell across his forehead from rocking his head back and forth with each draw of the bow and Amelia found herself bouncing on her toes from the fast beat. With a flourish, he drew out the last note and dropped both his bow and violin to his sides.
 

"Enough kick for you?" he asked, his breathing short, a wide grin on his face.