When Clyde Parker, the wayward son and the rotten-apple of the Parker family-tree, storms his way back into Avery Fields, he sets out a flurry of butterfly effect in Dawn Marshal's life.
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FOR THE LAST TWO weeks, the winter solstice ball was the talk of the town. The topic hadn't just infiltrated the mouths of the townsfolk, it had invaded households and family dinners, staffroom meetings and now the walls of her high school. Walls have ears but turns out they have awfully loud mouths too.
In the following days, the winter solstice ball barely made a wrinkle in her thoughts. She couldn't bother herself with the merry matters of the merry men. She had dug herself this pit of misery and she spent most of her days lying in it. Besides, she was convinced that the winter solstice ball was just another capitalist propaganda in lieu of culture and celebrations and had no wish to partake in such devious acts. But then she heard one of Amanda Kelly's minions whisper around, "Did you hear? Winter solstice is being organized in the Parker Manor this year." Now, the winter solstice ball was hitting a weak spot, punching and creating a dent in her awry thoughts.
The Parker Manor was Clyde Parker's home. Clyde Parker. Clyde Parker. She'd filled all the blank pages of her mind chanting his name. His name trickled from her mouth draped in blue ink. Blue like his eyes, blue like her heart. And suddenly, her mind was a maglev train running at 580 km/h vying with the second hand of the clock. Tick, tick, tick. The screeching of the engine, the friction between the wheels of her stormy mind and the railway tracks of her heart.
Her thoughts swept her off her feet and carried her off to the night in Clyde's bedroom. The way she was perfectly encased in his arms, her body melting at the caress of his fingertips. And it felt like...like she was holding someone she'd already lost. The next morning, she lay in bed and disentangled all the threads of emotions binding them together and wriggled out of his arms, fighting the hold he had on her body. But the hold he had on her heart — she couldn't shake it off no matter how hard she tried to. And she walked away, leaving behind her broken pieces in her wake.
Now her body was in the school cafeteria, her mind six feet under and her heart in the grasp of a boy who didn't know how to stay. She was neck-deep in the ocean of her thoughts when Alec gasped, "Mia Thompson in a turtleneck?!"
"It's a turtleneck Alec, I'm not wearing a fucking toga. That reaction was unnecessary." Mia rolled her eyes, tossing a grape at Alec who skillfully caught it with his mouth.
"I wasn't born yesterday bitch," he smirked at her, "We all know you only wear turtlenecks when you've got hickeys to hide. Why else would Mia Thompson deprive the whole student body of her fantastic cleavage?"
"It's called 'fashion', dodo head. Look it up!"
"C'mon now, spill it hoe. Who's pounding your punanni pavement?" Alec quirked up one of his eyebrows as his lips curled into a suggested smirk.
"Please, Dawn tell him!" Mia pleaded, "I'm getting about as much action as Cindy Webber!"
At this, Cindy Webber who had her nose buried in 'Introduction to Quantum Mechanics' and was sitting two tables away looked up. Mia smiled sheepishly, "No offence to you, Cindy. You do you girl!"
