Backtrack

Chapter One

Photo of the mystery girl ^

CHAPTER ONE.

+ Sam's POV  +

The air here smelled like dirt. Not the almost likeable earthly scent that you find out in the countryside though, no, it was more like the stench of mud that hits you like a brick wall when you try to breathe it in. It was suffocating and overpowering as I stepped out of the airport, my eyes flickering restlessly over the waiting cars. My actions may have been more productive, though, if I'd had any idea what my father's car even looked like.

I couldn't help the disgruntled sigh that slipped through my chapped lips as I spotted a tailored pant leg emerge from the back of a taxi. My eyes took in every detail of my father as he came into view, and a horrified shudder rippled through me as I realized how similar we looked. I gazed at his dirty blonde hair and grimaced as I noticed his light blue eyes and angular jaw, moving down to take in his navy business suit. It was like looking in a mirror showing the future version of myself, and it was terrifying. Would I have the same blank gaze and soulless expression when I reached his age?

My internal rambling was interrupted as my father stopped in front of me. I could feel his gaze assessing me from head to toe, absorbing my casual jeans and grey t-shirt, before settling on my beat-up converse. What? It was a long flight; I wanted to be comfortable.

"Sam," he finally acknowledged, grasping my hand in a firm grip. Really? Greeting your own son with a handshake?

"Hey, Dad," I mumbled, lifting my heavy suitcase into the waiting taxi.

"How was the flight?"

I shrugged one shoulder carelessly, before noticing his narrowed gaze and fixing my posture. "It was long, but not too bad. I was sitting next to a baby, though."

My father simply nodded in polite understanding, gesturing for me to enter the car first. I did, and pouted softly as I breathed in the stench of strangers that was embedded into the dirty seats of the taxi. How charming.

"The house is an hour away, so get comfortable. Have you eaten?" My dad questioned, but I could hear in his voice that he didn't really want to stop anywhere to get me food.

I nodded stiffly and leaned my head against the cool window as the taxi driver pulled away from the curb, slipping onto the one road leading in and out of Oak Hill. Part of me wanted to sit here and brood, wondering, "how did I end up here?", or, "why me?", but I knew I couldn't change anything. This was my home for the next year, whether I liked it or not. Come graduation, I'd be out of this small town and headed back to LA for college. Nothing, not even my mother's new job, was going to keep me here for longer than absolutely necessary.

\\//\\//

"Everything smells like manure," I complained, falling backwards onto my new bed. I bounced a couple of times and begrudgingly admitted that it was way more comfortable than my bed in LA.

"You'll get used to it," my best friend assured me through my phone, the static chopping up her usually melodic voice.

"I don't think I want to get used to it," I confessed. But really, who would want to get used to being surrounded by air that smelt like the inside of a barn after years of not being aired out?

Cammie's sigh drifted through the phone, and I suddenly felt bad for complaining the whole time. Even though the change was undoubtedly worse for me, Cammie was losing a best friend too.

"How are you, anyway?" I questioned, toying idly with a string on my jeans.

"I miss you, Sammy. School's not the same without you and I think Jackie's going crazy without her calculus buddy."