Girl of Fire and Shadow

Chapter One

ONCE UPON A time, I was hit in the face with a soccer ball.

I understand that's not how fairy-tales begin. I should have started with a princess, a handsome prince and then a battle with an evil queen, where the good guys would prevail.  Duh.

I shouldn't have said 'once upon a time.' This story doesn't go that way.

Sprawled on the soggy ground staring at the sky, I knew that I, Parker Pierce, had three options: cry, get angry, or sigh and take it.  In someone else's story, I would have gotten angry, would have ripped into the person with the shocking aim.

But this is my story, and my character isn't that interesting.

I sighed, and I took it.

"Am I a terrible friend if I say that was an epic kick?"  Ella's head popped into view, followed by the entourage, propping me up as I rubbed my reddening forehead.  The offending ball sat smugly by my feet.

I picked globs of mud from my hair and flicked them at my supposed friend. "An epic kick? The game is about getting a ball into a goal, not taking out the spectators."

Someone rolled the ball back into play, but my attention was hastily stolen by my book, its pages splayed and flecked with dank-smelling, school oval sludge. The cover page was ruined. I was going to have to have an awkward conversation with the librarians. A conversation that might or might not end with the termination of my library card.

"Don't look so devastated; you'll get frown lines." Ella stretched her legs out in front of her, head tilted back to soak up what little sun struggled through the blanket of clouds. The other girls were doing the same, forming a row of perfectly preened and manicured lionesses. "There are plenty more books in the world."

Exactly what someone without an emotional attachment to books would say. Being the forgotten town of Darkwell—halfway between Where-The-Hell-Are-We and God-Steve-Just-Ask-For-Directions—stories were scarce. The thought made wiping the sludge away even more depressing. Books were like children, and one did not hurl soccer balls at children. I assumed.

Ella leaned over, sticky-gloss lips close to my ear. "Walt's doing well, don't you think?" Beside her, the girls murmured, but they were yet to hone their skills of persuasion like their queen had. "He keeps looking over, you know. You'll hurt his feelings if you don't watch."

I held my book tight. "I'm going to tell him no."

"Why?" The gentle purr became a whine, and her eyes went soft and pleading. "He's been waiting for a chance to ask you out for ages. Do you know how many girls would kill for the chance to even talk to Walt Emris? If the trust fund isn't enough, just look at those shoulders!"

"Don't bother." Jade Ophel scooted up from behind, sticking her head between us and bringing forth a champagne-rose breeze of perfume. "Parker never shows interest in guys. Why, you ask? One word. Lesbian."

I pushed her away. "I'm not a lesbian."

"You know you can admit it, right? We could use the diversity to balance us out. The Ophels don't want to be the only minority in this group." She patted her own, mocha-toned cheek, while her sisters poked up their heads in meerkat fashion, not tuned into the conversation but trained to nod in agreement.

"Look, lesbian or no, can we just acknowledge the fact that Walt is a demi-god?" Ella scanned the players, picking out the boy in question, but her gaze, unsurprisingly, was drawn elsewhere. "Now, if it's a full-blooded god you're after ..."