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.
ABSENCE FROM THOSE WE LOVE IS SELF FROM SELF — A DEADLY
BANISHMENT.
~ WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Lockers slammed in the hallway, echoing off the high walls and ceiling as Amelia MacDonald walked, holding her messenger bag to her chest. She wandered the halls looking for the office where she could get her class schedule.
She was definitely lost.
Down the hall and to the left. Right! She stopped walking and looked at the sign on the wall. Bathrooms to the right, guidance offices to the left, main office straight. Nothing about the registrar's office. Amelia frowned at the wall. She turned around and looked at all the students talking to each other.
Well, someone must know where the office was.
Kids walked past her like she wasn’t there, or diverted around like she was a boulder in a stream. She tucked in her shoulders, scanning faces for someone who might help. Three kids came toward her, never visibly acknowledging her. The one nearest her as they past slammed his shoulder against hers and she stumbled, nearly falling and nearly dropping her bag.
He stared back at her, his expression flat. He looked too old to be a student and too young to be faculty. Long hair hung over his forehead, pushed flat by a baseball cap and covering his eyes. Amelia almost said something snarky, but something in his eyes made her stay quiet. Her pulse jumped into her throat and she was suddenly cold. He turned away from her, barely missing a beat.
Amelia blinked, shifting her bag in her hold.
“Ignore him,” a girl’s voice said in her peripheral, making her jump. She turned her head to look at the speaker. The girl was slightly taller than Amelia, with dark blond hair pulled in a ponytail. “Most of us do.”
“Do what?”
“Ignore him,” she repeated and smiled. “He’s creepy at best, crazy at worst. And you look lost.”
Amelia huffed. “I am.”
“I’ve seen the look before. What are you looking for?”
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