Teen Fury: Unleashed
Teen Fury Book I
Amanda Torrey
Copyright 2012 Amanda Torrey
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To my mom, Carolyn Sullivan, for teaching me to dream and for encouraging me to bring my dreams to life.
Chapter One
No one has ever died from piercing green eyes and a chiseled jaw line. (Right?) I’m certain I’d have read the story if long lashes on a flawless male face were the weapon of choice for a stalker.
So if I’m uncomfortable with the strange new senior who keeps staring at me, I can blame coincidence. The resulting headaches are suspicious, but probably stress-related.
I search my reflection for signs of trouble, give a silent prayer that the guy in question has left The Shack, then put on my happy smile and exit the bathroom, where Jade waits impatiently.
“’Bout time, girlie. You’ll never believe what new specimen of hotness is hanging in The Orange.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes at my bestie. Always on the lookout for drama and romance. You’d think she’d have learned that Mr. Right (or even Mr. Right Now) would A) never come to White Rock, Massachusetts, or B) flee as soon as he realized how little excitement happens here. But she’s on a mission, and she grabs my hand to pull me into the main dining area of The Shack, the favorite hangout of all the teens in town.
“I’ll give you five seconds to see what I see. Over there.”
I don’t want to look, because I know who she’s directing me to. And my headache is getting worse just thinking about him. So instead I study the glowstick-inspired décor around the room, appreciating the owner’s sense of style.
She grabs my face and forces my eyes toward The Orange, so named because of the fluorescent color on the wall in that section. Generally, the people who think they’re the coolest hang there, so the fact that he’s with them tells me all I need to know about his character.
I swat her hands away and look to The Green, where the kids I mentor tend to find themselves. The section is empty except for one straggler, twelve-year-old Aaron, who spends more time here than at home. His shoulders slump lower than usual, and even from here I can see the ring of filth on his neck.
He must have been kicked out again.
Jade yanks on my arm, demanding me to pay attention.
“Did you see him? Is he not perfection? Just look at that black hair. Don’t you want to rush over there and run your hands through it? Oh my god, and those shoulders. Yum.” She bites her knuckle for emphasis but doesn’t take her eyes off the guy in The Orange.
He looks in our direction and winks.
I roll my eyes.
“Jade, you need to write romance novels or something.” I check the time on my cell. I have plenty of time to spend with Aaron before my other bestie, Corey, comes to help me work on building a website for the mentoring organization I’m trying to make more formal. If only I can get Jade to focus back on the work ahead.
“That would be fun. But right now I just want to drink in the vision that is before me.”
“Well, drink quick because we have work to do.”
I pull away and head over to The Green, where Aaron glances up through his thick lashes and pushes aside the napkin he had been toying with.
“Hey, Aaron. What kind of shake are you craving today?”
He shrugs, showing no enthusiasm, though I know he’s hungry. He’s never come here without a ravenous appetite and empty pockets.
“Come on, it’s on me.”
He lifts one corner of his mouth, and his eyes light up the tiniest bit.
“I guess I’ll take a strawberry one, if you’re making me.”
I laugh and tap him playfully on the arm. He sits up a little straighter and tells me I’m lucky I’m a girl so he won’t punch me back.
“Felicia, he’s coming over here…” Jade whispers in my ear as I place my order at the glowing counter. The owner is working the register today and gives me a hefty discount. He knows I spend all my allowance here, mostly on the needy kids who have chosen The Shack as their haven.
“And I should care, why?”
“Because he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you pulled away from me. I think he’s coming to talk to you.”
“Or he’s coming to order something to eat. That’s what people do here, you know. Eat. Drink. Be merry.”
“You’re so flip. Go ahead and blow this opportunity. Whatev. Just don’t cry to me when you’re all alone with your books and your goody-goodyness.” Jade reapplies her lip gloss and puts on her brightest smile as the mystery guy approaches. I can tell he’s getting closer because Jade practically vibrates, which generally only happens when she’s near her target.
I take the strawberry shake and turn toward the table. But there’s an obstacle right behind me and I crash into it, spilling shake all down my arm and all over that guy.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there.”
Why the heck was he standing so close? Ever hear of personal space?
I reach out to wipe the shake off his chest. Big mistake. His body is rock solid, and images of him shirtless rush through my head. I blink rapidly, trying to purge the thoughts from my mind. That’s a Jade thing to imagine, not a me thing. “Don’t be sorry. My bad. I was too busy wondering who you are to notice how close I was standing.”
Wondering about me? He had been surrounded by the hottest girls in town, and he’s wondering about me? Bull.
Jade steps in with a pile of napkins, which she places in my strawberry shake-covered hand. She hands some to hot guy, I mean, the new guy, and he thanks her with a smile that gleams under the LED lights.
The napkins stick to my fingers as I try to clean the mess. I focus intently on scrubbing the remnants off. Anything to keep from staring. I’ve never seen a smile quite like his.
I barely notice Sean, the owner of The Shack, calling Aaron to the window and sliding another glass of strawberry shake over to him. I think I managed a “thank you,” but I’m so tongue- tied, I can’t be certain.
Losing my communication skills because of a guy? So not cool. And so not me.
I gather my composure and excuse myself. I rush into the bathroom and scrub my hands, trying to cleanse myself of the shake and the memory of his chest on my fingers.
The hottest of hot water doesn’t help.
When I return to the dining area, I make a beeline for Aaron, sliding into the booth across from him.
“Smooth move, Felicia. What’s wrong, did Mr. Muscles make you nervous?” Aaron’s voice is that of a taunting and annoying twelve-year-old, but I’m happy to hear some humor from him. He had looked so dejected before the shake incident.
“He was in my way. It was his own fault.” I don’t dare to look into the crowd, afraid of what I
’ll see.
I don’t have to look up, though, because Jade’s sing-song voice gets louder as she approaches, and it seems as though she’s regaling the new guy with tales of me.
“So she doesn’t dump shake on every guy who moves to town?” He’s standing over me now, and my foot starts twitching under the table.
“Felicia, this is Zane. Zane, meet Felicia.”
He reaches his hand out to mine, and I reluctantly return the gesture. He holds on a little longer than is comfortable, and I pull away and hide my now-burning hand on my lap.
“You look good in red.”
So he’s going to comment on my embarrassed blush? Really?
“You look good in pink.” I look pointedly to his chest, where his black shirt has soaked up most of the spilled shake, but streaks of pink are still evident.
He laughs. And yes, it’s contagious. Aaron kicks me under the table, and I tone down my nervous giggle a notch.
I have that strange feeling you get when you’re being watched. I look to The Orange, where a group of girls lean forward, gesturing toward me with disdain all over their jealous faces. They look away when I look at them, but I can tell they’re talking negatively about me. Oh well, not the first time. They are welcome to take their pretty boy back to The Orange where he belongs.
A sudden movement outside the window draws my attention, where I notice an unfamiliar guy standing. He looks to be about Zane’s age, probably a senior.
At first it appears as though he’s perusing the menu posted on the window, but when I look at him a second longer, I notice he’s actually looking at me. And his fists are clenched.
A shiver runs down my back, and my once-burning hands suddenly feel icy.
Zane must have noticed my eyes wandering, because he follows my gaze and makes two tight fists at his side, then releases them and returns to his casual, carefree stance.
“Great, that psychopath transferred, too.” He almost mumbles the words, but they come through loud and clear.
“He’s a psycho?” Jade leans forward, intrigued by the prospect of new drama in our boring little town.
“Never mind about him. I want to hear more about you ladies.”
I try not to look out the window again, but I can’t help feeling the guy’s eyes on me.
He soon enters The Shack, orders something at the window, and takes it to go. I shiver again when he leaves the building, somehow disappointed that he wasn’t as forward as Zane. Then again, it’s odd for one attractive guy to notice me.
Besides, who wants the attention of someone with a psychopathic reputation?
Chapter Two
Corey rushes in about twenty minutes after he said he’d be here, which is about ten minutes after Zane excused himself and rushed out of The Shack. Corey slides into the booth next to Aaron. He mutters something about his mother needing him to run errands for her, then reaches across the table to grab my laptop. He opens it and taps in my password, then leans so close to the computer that I think he might be pulled into the thing.
“Thanks so much for doing this, Core.”
“No prob. Now hush so I can write this code.”
I smile at him, even though he can’t see me because he’s so absorbed. Jade bounces back to the table and gestures for me to move over so she can sit next to me.
I grab a piece of her cookie before she can swat my hand away. Aaron laughs at our playfulness.
“So while he’s playing with the computer, can you focus on something besides the grant for a few? Something important. Something tall, dark, and insanely gorgeous?”
“I’ll make a deal with you. You help me finalize my Mission Statement, and I’ll listen for the rest of the night while you gush about Zane. Deal?”
And like a good friend, she agrees, although I know she’d much rather cut to the gossip.
“Fine, but only if you promise to stop obsessing about the grant for the rest of the day.”
I started obsessing about this grant at the beginning of the school year, when Community Guarantee, the local family-owned bank, announced at our school they were looking to provide funding to the teen with the best idea for a new charity. Since I was already doing some informal work with some kids in town, I welcomed the opportunity to branch out and do stuff that I wanted to do with them, but couldn’t afford with my allowance. Things like field trips, more community activities, stuff the troubled and abandoned kids I was mentoring would really get into. Not to mention, some money to put toward expanding the back room of The Shack so we could have a meeting place. That part was Sean’s idea.
Corey had the idea of building an interactive website, and since he was hugely into computer programming and super-smart with that stuff, I knew he could do it.
“Alright, Leesh, where shall we begin?” Corey is the only one in the world I would let call me that. There aren’t a whole lot of ways to shorten “Felicia,” for which I’m grateful. He gave me the nickname when we were ten, so I’ve gotten used to it from him. But it would be so not cool from anyone else. “I’ve got the basic code all set; now we need to input your particulars.”
“Why ask me? You’re the expert.” I toss the straw wrapper I’ve been playing with at him, but he doesn’t notice.
“True, can’t count on you to know anything about anything…” He smiles at me, and I prepare to launch a bunched-up napkin at him. When he throws his arms up in surrender, I decide to let him get away with his comment. For now, at least.
Corey drones on about the computer stuff, and I try to pay attention, but he loses me pretty early on. He notices my glazed look and throws a rumpled piece of paper at me, pulling me out of my fog world.
“What? I’m listening!”
“No, you’re not, but that’s okay. Just answer my question.”
I try to fudge it but figure I’m caught. I have no idea what he asked me.
“It’s simple, Leesh. What colors do you want for your background?”
Ahh, colors. That I can handle.
“Something really bright and welcoming to kids. But not so bright that it turns the adults away. Maybe greens and yellows, gender neutral.”
He types his confusing codes into the computer, and I turn back to my Mission Statement. Jade has some great ideas, which I write furiously into my notebook. Even Aaron interjects a few helpful thoughts, though he’s mostly consumed with playing a game on my phone.
We’re just about finished with the first draft of the Mission Statement when I start feeling awful.
My lower back aches like crazy, and I have the worst craving for salt. But I had been craving ice cream. Mmm, salted ice cream! Okay, that sounds kind of ick, but maybe pretzels dipped in ice cream. That I could go for.
“Yo, Felicia. Tune in here, will ya? I was just getting to the best part.”
“I’m sorry, Jade. I’m not feeling well at all. I think I might need to lie down; my head is killing me.”
“Aww, hon. Want me to get you something? Advil? A cookie?”
“No thanks. I think I’m getting my, um, you know…” I glance meaningfully in Corey’s direction so she knows why I’m talking in code. Not that it should really matter; he’s so deep into computer world, The Shack could blow up and he wouldn’t notice. And while it shouldn’t be weird to talk about this stuff around him since he’s my best friend and all, he’s still a guy and it’s a little weird to have that kind of conversation with him.
“No way! 'Bout time you join the world of miserable women everywhere!” I raise my eyebrows in horror and widen my eyes at her loud tone. She mouths “sorry,” then leans closer to me and whispers, “Do you have stuff?”
“Yeah, I guess. My mom loaded my bathroom cabinet years ago.”
Yes, I know, I’m the oldest girl in the world to still be waiting to get my period. But I read online that fifteen isn’t really ancient for starting menstruation; it just feels like it. They say you usually get it around the same age your mom got it, but since I’m adopted, I have n
o way of knowing. And my mom, the one who has raised me since I was an infant, got hers when she was twelve, so she thinks I’m some sort of mutant or something.
I moan as a sharp cramp hits my kidney area. How on earth do girls go through this every month? I don’t think I can function.
“Hey, Corey, we have to take off. Seems little miss workaholic is getting the stomach bug that’s going around, or something. Better hurry and run so we don’t get it.” Jade sticks her tongue out at me.
When Corey doesn’t respond, Jade slaps him on the side of the head.
“Whoa, what? What’s your problem? I’m in the middle of something here.” He rubs his head.
“We have to go. Felicia isn’t feeling well.”
Corey turns and looks at me with deep concern in his eyes. He’s such a sweetie; I don’t know why he doesn’t have a girlfriend. He’s the type of boy who will worship a girl and treat her like a queen.
“What’s wrong? What can I get you?”
I rub my lower back.
“Nothing major. I just feel kind of sick. Headache, stomachache, that kind of thing.” My vision starts to get blurry so I blink rapidly. “Mind if we get back to this tomorrow after school?”
“No prob.” He hits a few more keys, then packs up his stuff. He tosses his backpack over one shoulder and leans over the table to kiss me on the top of my head. “Dude, you’re burning up. Let me call someone to give you a ride home.”
“It’s okay, I can walk home. I think the fresh air and exercise might help.”
Corey helps me out of the booth, carrying my computer in his free arm. Jade picks up my backpack and says something to Aaron, then follows us out the door.
This pain is horrendous.
The walk home is slower than usual, but my friends stay with me the whole way. They help me get up to my room, too, where I snuggle in with my favorite teddy bear and drift off to sleep.
Sometime later, my mom comes in and presses a wet wash cloth to my head, but I drift back to sleep and don’t wake up until my alarm goes off the next morning.
I dream of snakes swimming through a river of blood. And the guy from outside The Shack standing on the bank of the river with his arms out toward me.
Chapter Three
I feel remarkably better this morning. Not a single cramp, and my head feels good as new. It’s like I imagined the whole thing.