Glimpse (Completed)

Chapter One: Blair

Thank you so much for reading Glimpse! It's been a few years in the making now, but I'm finally getting back to it. 

For a limited time, you can download Glimpse FREE on Amazon. All I ask is that you please leave me an honest review to help other people find this story as well. 

If you already read Glimpse all those years ago, I adore you. Thank you for the comments, the edits, and the support. All of you readers truly mean the world to me and I'm so so grateful to each and every one of you. 

 I'm super excited for you to see the new version of the book, which includes Liam's perspective. I've included a few chapters here to give you a taste.

Download and review Glimpse TODAY on Amazon at this link: https://www.amazon.com/Glimpse-Book-One-Quartet-ebook/dp/B0BK8G4DKT

XOXO

-Faye

There is exactly one high school Biology teacher in Ash Wood, Oregon. And I cannot decide if he is a boring shell of a man because he grew up here, and therefore never had a chance at developing a personality, or because he is actively trying to punish this godforsaken town for its own existence.

Mr. Parker stands at the front of the room, dressed in the same collared shirt and lumpy sweater vest combo he wears every day as he drones on about genetic drift for the third time this week. Of all the subjects he could ruin, it's a shame he had to pick Biology. Every second of my attention requires more willpower than I can conjure as he draws a diagram on allele frequency.

"Psst," I hear from the seat behind me, and I can't stop the smile that creeps onto my face. Gia Halstead, unlike our insufferable teacher, is inarguably the best person in town.

Leaning back in my chair, I cock my head so she has better access to my ear.

"Jamie Lewis is so wasted." She giggles into her hand. I sneak a look at Jamie, her head in her hands while she not-so-subtly rubs at her temples. The huge black sunglasses she wears make her pallid skin look gaunt and worn—even paired with her platinum blond hair.

My first reaction is pity; substance abuse is nothing to laugh about. But it's hard to hold onto concern for someone who lives in one of the palaces on the coast and regularly cheats off my tests.

"Poor thing. It's only Tuesday," I whisper to Gia over my shoulder.

"You know Jamie. Never too early to start the weekend." She laughs again and I wince, prepped for Mr. Parker's lecture before he zeroes in.

"Ms. Halstead. Since you're so eager to chat, why don't you tell us the name of this formula?" He slaps a ruler against the whiteboard with unnecessary force.

"The, uh, genetic drift formula?" She shrinks in her seat, garnering smirks and chuckles from around the room.

He rolls his eyes and folds his arms, the picture of impatience and condescension. "Try again."

"Umm..." She pages through her notebook, which has long been dedicated to doodles and cursive practice.

"It's the Wright-Fisher model." I don't have to look at my notes—which are copious and highlighted, as per usual—to know the name.

"Thank you. Ms. Halstead," Parker says, eyeing me. "Pay attention, ladies." He goes on about the equation for another unending five minutes until the bell finally frees us and he is drowned out by the stuffing of backpacks and scuffling shoes.

I really do want to like him. But watching him angrily erase the board only reinforces his unpleasantness.

"Thanks for bailing me out." Gia sits on my desk, handing me my pencil. Her dark box braids hang past her shoulders, accentuating the soft curves I've always coveted.