Chapter One

Chapter One: Small town outside St, George, Utah. Year 2010

Ding!
I groaned, getting up from my stool. I trudged around the check-out counter as a customer walked in.
Just an old couple coming in to refill a few jugs.
“When you need me, I’ll be ready to right up your purchase.” I told the man politely, going back to my stool.
Working in a gas station wasn’t my exactly my job of choice. But when you’re seventeen in a very small community, you can’t get much better.
I was actually lucky I got a job here. I don’t think my old Ford truck could handle going up and down the highway, sixteen miles, to St. George anymore that was necessary. Like going to school.
The old couple came up to the counter, smiling. I tried my best to have the same happy attitude. But it was hard. I’d broken up with my six-month boyfriend sixty minutes earlier.
The bell above the door dinged again as they left. I sighted in relief at being alone again.

I grumbled to myself as I turned the ignition on in my old Ford truck. I turned the few corners and rattled down the streets to my house. I barely listened to the radio.
My truck shuttered to a stop in front of my old log cabin-looking house. The house gave me the impression it was mocking me. The late, four o’clock sun was glinting off the wood, making it look happy. Peaceful. I walked quickly indoors, throwing my keys on the cluttered kitchen table.
“Where are you going, Jen?” my fourteen year old sister asked as I tumbled my way through the crowded kitchen toward the backdoor. I flicked my light brown hair over my shoulder, it falling to rest with the ends below my shoulder blades
“I’m going for a walk, Isabelle,” I replied hastily. I shrugged into a jacket- even though it wasn’t cold yet- and wrenched the door open. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. Tell mom I have my cell phone and I’m staying in the valley.” With that I grabbed a water bottle off the counter and left the house.
I trudged down my two acre yard, glad to be alone again. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a hair-tie and pulled my hair into a messy bun.
A hedge came up in front of me, so I got down and crawled threw it. A few leaves snagged into my hair as I pushed myself through and emerged on the road behind my property. I left them there though, figuring that since I wasn’t going to see anyone, there was no point in trying to look fabulous.
My mind wandered as I walked and I barely paid attention to the road, going anywhere my feet led me. I ended up at the small Orchard Valley park. The were no kids there, but there was a person.
Male, I guessed from the way he was staring at a motorcycle that was propped up beside him on a seat of a picnic bench.
His hair, too. It was long, slightly to his earlobes. It was wavy and black, styled into a casual disarray.
He was, altogether, rather handsome. And I hadn’t even seen him from the front.
I stopped staring and went to the empty swings Curiosity forgotten; I sat down with my back to the unknown person. Whether it was forgotten curiosity or fear that kept me from looking at him though, I honestly didn’t know. I was trying to convince myself it wasn’t fear.
I don’t know how long I spent trying to convince myself before I realized the small jacket I was wearing wasn’t keeping me warm anymore.
The swing next to me creaked as someone sat down.
“Are you cold?”
I looked up and my reply caught in my throat. It was Motorcycle Boy. The front of him was much better then his hair. And that was saying something.
His voice was deep, soothing; just like his eyes. They were the deepest blue. In the glints of nightfall, it looked like the first stars of the night were in his eyes, not the sky.
And his face! His chin and cheek bones were so angled, you’d think he’d come straight from my calculus book itself.
“Umm, no, no thanks.” I answered before I thought.
“Oh, well, you’re shivering.” He hand came to his shoulder as if he was thinking about giving me his own black light-weight jacket. I blushed as I realized he was speaking the truth: I was shivering.
“Yeah, I guess I am a bit cold,” I mumbled. I snuck a look at him and my breath caught again.
He was smiling, looking like a painters dream.
Only one side of his mouth was turned up. Lopsided, but beautiful.
He turned his head to me and I quickly looked away, embarrassed to be caught looking at him.
“Here,” he reached up to his shoulder and this time he did take his jacket off. He handed it to me and I gratefully pulled it on over my own. It was at least three sized too big, but it was very warm.
“I’m Jenica McKee.” I said, pulled out a jacket-cuff covered right hand. He smiled that lopsided smile again before shaking my hand and answering.
“Devon Michaels.”
I liked his name. I liked the way it had the on sound instead of the usual en sound.
“Nice to meet you,” I said too-formally. He chuckled, smiled, and nodded once.
“S-so, did you just move to Orchard Valley?” I stuttered lamely.
“Yeah,” he answered, “I live in that old house on Apricot.”
Apricot road. I recited in my head. It was easy to remember the street names in Orchard Valley: they were all named after fruit.
“Where are you?” he inquired.
“Pear Street, “ I muttered he started nodding slowly.
I was silent for a while and my swing creaked as I rocked on it slowly.
“I moved here yesterday, I don’t know anyone.” Devon said suddenly. I looked up at him quickly and had to remind myself to breathe.
“I don’t have many friends,” I muttered. He seemed to already know this, or he was expecting it.
“Do you have a…” he seemed to be searching for the right word,” Boyfriend?” it was then I remembered why I’d come here in the first place.
“We broke up.”
He nodded again.
“Do you have a family?” he questioned. I was beginning to wonder what started his game of twenty questions, but I answered anyway.
“Yeah, a mom and a sister.”
“No dad?”
“Nope.”
He let that subject drop, but started a new one.
“How old’s your sister?”
“Fourteen. Her name’s Isabelle.”
We continued with this for quite a while. I found out that he has a sister, but they live alone. He’s also a junior at East High, just like me.
It was dark by the time we stopped talking, and I was once again happy I had Devon’s jacket.
“I better get going,” I announced sadly. Devon looked up from studying the ground.
“I’ll give you a ride…?” he asked. I smiled and stood up.
“Sure, if you don’t mind. It is a long walk…”
He stood up and I followed him to his motorcycle. He sat down on it and I was relieved to see there was more than enough room for me to sit.
I’d never ridden a motorcycle. I had to admit it was a bit scary. But I made it home. That’s what matters. I thanked Devon for the ride. After making arrangements for him to pick me up for a school, I trudged inside.
Then I realized I’d forgotten my water bottle at the park. Oh well, I thought as I pushed my cat off the couch and lay down on the now vacant couch. I quickly fall asleep, welcoming the rest after such an eventful day.