Chapter 1

The aroma of burning leaves and fresh lake air was a constant backdrop of Stephanie Taylor’s summer vacations. With the promise of perfect-temperature, sunny days, her three months off in Tawas was her favorite time of year.

The first two days after the end of junior year started off the same as always. Stephanie kissed her parents good-bye, loaded herself and her brother, Seth, into the sleek black Volvo she was given for her sixteenth birthday, and began the four hour drive to her grandparent’s cottage.

As soon as she pulled in to the driveway, Seth was already flinging himself out the door.

“Seth!” she cried, slamming the breaks. He tossed a wicked grin back at her as he stumbled around to the back of the house. “You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days!” His wild laughter was the only response.

Rolling her eyes, Stephanie threw the Volvo in to park and cut the purring engine. She climbed out of the car, shielding her eyes from the glare of the afternoon sun. From the drive she could just make out the water front—the waves were mostly calm and glittered invitingly. Sighing once in contentment, Stephanie strode swiftly towards the little yellow lodge her grandparents called home.

She knocked lightly on the door, running a hand through her mane of dark curls. Moments later a kind face appeared in the doorway.

“Stephi!” Stephanie grinned as her grandmother swept her in to a healthy hug. “It’s been too long! Where’s Seth?”

“Out back, naturally.” Her grandma rolled her eyes.

“That boy is part fish, Olivian. I’ll swear it!”

“Don’t I know it? He was MVP of the freshman team this year.” Stephanie smiled fondly. Genievieve George was Stephanie’s favorite person in the world. Her grandmother was fairly young, having married right after high school. Her wise brown eyes were wide and cheerful; they sparkled with her youth and crinkled just at the corners. Though her light brown hair was beginning to gray, Genievieve was still very much a child at heart.

“Where’s Grandpa?” Stephanie asked, peering into the house.

“He’s out fishing.” Genievieve frowned in disapproval.

“What’s wrong with fishing?”

“We’ve had fish nearly every night for two weeks straight— by the sound of it, we’ll have enough to feed us through the winter.”

Stephanie wrinkled her nose. “Oh. Well, I might just skip dinner….” She trailed off, winking playfully.

“Yes,” Genievieve agreed. “We will have to set a limit.” She smiled then, and opened the screen door. “Come on in, Steph. Make yourself at home.”

“Just let me grab some of my stuff.” Stephanie tramped down the front steps and popped the trunk of the Volvo. The trunk was packed to the point of explosion, and a bag full of books spilled on to the sandy driveway. Stephanie groaned, then piled the fallen novels into her arms.

She struggled to the house and through the door.

“Grandma!” She called, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. “I have something for you!” Glancing in to the kitchen had her reeling; she froze, and the books dropped to the ground with a bang.

“Hey, Steph. How’ve you been?” Without thinking, Stephanie turned on her heel and walked back out the door.

How could she not have told her?! How could her grandmother be so cruel? The accusations swirled furiously in her head as she gunned her car out of the driveway.

For years the summer had consisted of Stephanie and Seth. The last time someone else had stayed, Stephanie had lost her heart and best friend. What was the cause for all her pain doing? Did she think she was welcome in that house? As if!

Enraged beyond belief, Stephanie drove through town until she reached the pier. She slammed the door and marched angrily along the dock. It took five minutes for the fresh air and warm sunshine to calm her down; and for another ten minutes she stood against the edge of the pier, letting the wind whip her hair around her face.

There was a storm brewing out on the lake. Clouds, bruised purple, roiled in the distance. The static in the air made her hair stand on end, and the wind pushed the waves violently against the shore. Beyond the break, white caps drove towards her, the water stained a macabre blue-black.

Ugly as it was, the scenery pulled acutely at her mood, and she scanned the horizon once—looking for what, she didn’t know— before jogging back to her car. In the back window sat a brand-new sketchbook. She hadn’t even had the chance to crack open the pages. If there was ever an opportune time, Stephanie decided it was at that very moment.

She pulled the book out of the back and dug in her backpack for a pencil. The graphite had been narrowed down to just a stub, and she rolled her eyes in impatience at the same time she flicked open her pocket knife. Carefully she honed the tip to a nice point and then hurried along the wharf.

She paused for a moment and scanned the horizon again. The bruises were turning darker; more blue than purple. She could see the rain falling upon the water; the lightning darting through the layers accumulated over the lake.

Taking a mental photograph of the colors, she flipped open the book and propped it against the railing. She glanced up once more, then her pencil was sprinting across the blank page.

Dark clouds took shape first; a white strike of lightning parted them. She then sketched in the roiling waves, adding a touch of a light bouncing off the surface.

On the opposite side of black clouds, whiter, fluffier clouds took shape. She didn’t know where they had come from— it wasn’t as if the sun was now breaking through to the surface of the water. But in her head— the picture seemed so right.

Unable to stop herself, she added more rain drops underneath the cumulous clouds. Here they were few in number, and the water was not shaded, but a pretty, clear window to the bottom of the lake.

She added shafts of sunlight splintering through the falling prisms. And then her imaginings of light and happiness were dashed.

The first few real raindrops dripped unceremoniously on to her sketch. The pencil began to run, and she looked up, wildly surprised.

“No!” She growled, slamming the book shut. The wind whipped her hair and a snarl of thunder reverbeted troughout the bay. “You couldn’t have just waited five seconds, could you?” She nearly yelled. Stephanie knew it would take hours for her to accumulate that much motivation again.

She turned her back on the storm and marched back along the pier.

“Stupid, God-awful, idiotic, gale. Damn it!”

She reached her Volvo just as the imminent shower released its wrath upon her vehicle. She groaned, diving for the door. Struggling with the lock, tying to shield her delicate paper while fumbling with her keys, her thick black hair quickly became drenched.

Eventually she managed to unlock her car. Stephanie sighed with relief and lurched on to the dry leather interior of the Volvo. She glanced hesitantly at her sketchbook. The cover was slick with rain water, but when she peeked at her new sketch, it was still in perfect condition— minus the one smudge made by the first raindrops.

“It’s okay, Stephanie. You’re fine.” Of course she would be fine. Water couldn’t hurt her or her drawings. “Just needed to cool off.”

She swallowed a few times and then started the car. The engine purred to life. She turned on her windshield wipers, put the car in reverse, and backed out to the main road.

If she had been any less preoccupied, she might have glimpsed the lone black car parked directly behind her and the green eyes that followed her until the Volvo disappeared out of sight.

*~*

Thanks for reading, guys!

*~*Kiss*~*