Always You Read online

  Copyright © 2013 Missy Johnson

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN 978-0-9875343-8-5

  First Printing: November 2013

  BJJ Publishing

  Other books by Missy Johnson

  Seduce (Beautiful Rose #0.5)

  Beautiful Rose (#1)

  Tease

  So Many Reasons Why

  Incredible Beauty

  Inseparable

  Desire

  Coming soon:

  Promiscuous

  Provoke

  Captivating (Beautiful Rose #2)

  Connect with Missy

  Twitter: @MissycJohnson

  Email: [email protected]

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/MissycJohnson

  Always You

  By Missy Johnson

  Dedication

  To my wonderful family

  Prologue

  Eleven years earlier . . .

  “What are they talking about?” she asked, screwing up her nose.

  I shrugged. "The same thing they always talk about," I said. "That I'm gonna get sick someday."

  She scratched her head and her brow furrowed. "Well . . . " She paused. "We're all gonna get sick someday, right? So why do we need to worry about it now?"

  I looked at the little girl. She couldn't have been more than seven years old with her long dark hair and sparkling green eyes. She was a child, but she had just spoken to me like no other person had.

  “You wanna see my cubby house?” she asked suddenly. I nodded. She raced outside, me right behind her. We ran down the far end of the property, behind the garage, past rows and rows of homegrown vegetables. Eventually, a tiny shack came into view. We slowed to a walk as we approached the door.

  Inside, everything was pink: the walls, the thick shaggy carpet—even the two small armchairs that sat in the middle of the room were a sickly bright pink. She stood smiling proudly, waiting for my reaction.

  “It’s very . . . pink,” I commented awkwardly.

  “I like pink,” she said defensively, grabbing a doll and sitting in one of the armchairs.

  I sniggered and sat down in the other. I was too tall for it, but I squished myself into it anyway.

  “So, what’s wrong with you?” she asked.

  “I might have the disease my father has,” I replied quietly.

  She looked surprised. “So you don’t even know if you’re sick?”

  I shook my head.

  “Then why are you worrying about something that might not happen?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t have an answer for her. I worried because my parents did. I worried because I saw how much my father struggled. I worried because every day he was one day closer to death, and living the life I might be destined to live.

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  What I meant was it was hard to explain to a seven-year-old, who couldn’t grasp the concept of life and death. At twelve, I’d lost my childhood. My life had revolved around this disease that may or may not one day consume me. The disease that was slowly killing my dad.

  “I just don’t get why you would worry about maybe getting sick, especially when it wouldn’t happen for ages. You can’t change it, so what good is worrying going to do?” She shrugged and picked at her doll’s hair.

  She said it so simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world. She'd pointed out something so obvious that I hadn't ever considered it before. Not really.

  With all the years of paranoia, and grieving the loss of my life that may or may not happen in twenty or even forty years’ time, my parents had never thought to allow me to actually live. I’d never had the freedom—or the desire—to explore my life.

  The fact that it might be cut short should have been more reason for me to be living my dreams, not an excuse to hide away from everything I wanted. In the space of a few short minutes, this little girl and her simple outlook on life had changed my whole perspective on living and dying.

  I should've known it was her when I saw her again on that first day of school. It should've been obvious. But she'd changed, and so had I. The years had changed me.

  And I was soon to find out that they had changed her, too.

  This is our story.

  Chapter One

  Wrenn

  “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.” –Henry Stanley Haskins.

  This time last year, I was normal.

  I had a great life in Washington, D.C. We lived in a huge house with a big, sprawling lawn. I went to a school I loved where I had lots of friends. This time last year I had a mom and a dad. A brother who, although at times he bugged the shit out of me, I adored. Then, just like that, they were gone.

  Dead. And I was alone.

  They say things happen for a reason, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out the reasoning behind that. What lesson could have possibly been big enough to require that kind of plan? To lose one family member is tragic, but to lose all three at one time is something I’ll never get over. No matter how much time passes, nothing will fill that gap. That aching in my heart will never dull, as long as I’m alive and breathing.

  My aunt and uncle have been wonderful. I have no idea how I would’ve gotten through the past year without their love and support. They took me into their home, no questions asked, trying their best to make me a part of their family. But I’ll never completely fit in. As much as I know they love me, nothing can replace my parents and my brother.

  All I can do is try to move on with my life and be someone my family would have been proud of. Try not to forget the wonderful things they instilled in me as a person.

  I so badly want to make them proud of me. I can’t bring them back. I can’t erase the past, but I can control my future.

  Chapter Two

  Wrenn

  Gasping for breath, I sat bolt upright in bed. Another nightmare. This time I’d woken up just as the car was careering into the tree, the moment of impact broken by my body jolting awake. The screams of Mom still rang in my ears as I tried to calm my body down. I shivered, the chill in the air colliding with the layer of sweat that covered me as I glanced at the clock.

  Almost seven. No point going back to sleep when I had to be up soon anyway.

  Wandering downstairs, I wrapped the tie of my light pink robe tightly around my waist. The accident was still so real in my mind, even after almost a year. Every little detail was so vivid, like it’d happened only yesterday. The sound of the tires skidding; the metallic taste of blood on my tongue.

  And the crying. Oh God, the crying.

  I rounded the bottom of the staircase and entered the kitchen. Layna was already up and making coffee, which shouldn’t have surprised me. She slept less than I did. She raised her eyebrows, her brown eyes brimming with concern as she slowly stirred her drink.

  “Up early,” she commented, raising her eyebrows.

  I nodded, focusing on her white robe, with little pink flowers embroidered around the collar. “Yeah. Another nightmare.” I grabbed a cup and slid it down the black and white speckled marble counter to her.

  She filled it and pushed it back. “Maybe talking to someone again might help?” she suggested.

  I shrugged. Talkin
g didn’t help me sleep. Most nights I was lucky enough to get four broken hours, and I could function on that.

  “I’ll be fine. So, you’ve got the whole school in a twist with this new teacher you’ve hired. What’s he like?” I asked, making the most of being related to the headmistress, and also changing the subject.

  “Is it really that big a deal? He’s only here for eight weeks. So long as he can control you all, that’s all I care about,” she joked with a laugh.

  “How old is he?” I asked, raking my fingers through my long dark hair and twirling it into a braid over my shoulder. Like every other girl in school, I was hoping for young and hot.

  “I’m not having this conversation with you, Wrenn. You girls are ruthless.” She shook her head, her short blonde hair waving around her shoulders. I giggled and grabbed a granola bar, taking that and my coffee back upstairs to get ready.

  Showered and dressed in my uniform—complete with black tights, considering it was freaking freezing outside—I went back downstairs and grabbed my backpack. It was just after eight thirty. With less than fifteen minutes until my first class, I made my way across campus. First up was History, and like every other student in the entire school, I was curious to see the replacement for Ms. Lucas. Rumor had it he was young and cute, and that had me excited. A cute teacher to fantasize over? Um, yes please!

  Can you tell I didn’t get out much?

  Kassia was waiting for me outside the classroom when I arrived. She smiled when she spotted me. She was my best, and only, friend in this place. We’d started hanging out mainly because we were both social outcasts. Me, because I was…well, me, and her because she was a lesbian. Seriously, who outcasts someone just because they’re gay? She was the one person in this place who I could actually have fun with. Without her, this place would have ruined me a long time ago. I’d learned quickly that personality didn’t matter for shit in this place; all that mattered was your social standing and how much money you had. I was pretty damn low on both counts.

  “Did you see Paige Warner today? I swear her skirt is so short I can see her twat,” she mumbled under her breath.

  I snorted.

  “Ten bucks says she drops something in front of ‘Mr. New-and-Apparently-Hot Teacher’ just so she has to pick it up and give him a show. I wouldn’t put it past her to give him a freaking lap dance.”

  “And you’ll be right there watching,” I smirked, nudging her in the side.

  Paige was the definition of skank and the leader of the bitchy group that had taken it upon themselves to make mine and Kass’s life hell. At least I’d only had to suffer through the past semester. Poor Kass had been putting up with this shit for five years.

  Still, Paige was (as Kass would say) Playboy Playmate kind of hot, and like I could appreciate how sexy Roger Federer was—or maybe even this new hot teacher, Kass insisted on doing the same with Paige. She said that Paige’s nasty personality meant she didn’t have to feel bad about objectifying her, which always made me giggle.

  We walked inside and took the only two seats available, right down the back. I snorted. Paige turned around and glared at me, her eyes reducing to narrow slits. I rolled my eyes. There was a law against me snorting now?

  I’m sorry, but it was freaking hysterical that in the presence of a potentially hot new teacher, the whole classroom landscape had changed. The cool girls now sat front row center, chests stuck out, shirts unbuttoned, and legs crossed, ready to launch an attack on the poor, unsuspecting guy. I was already feeling sorry for him. Kass glanced at me and shook her head while giving Paige the finger. That made me snort again.

  Sliding into my seat, I dumped my bag on my desk and began to unpack my books. Uh-oh Mr. Teacher, you’re three minutes late. Not a good first impression. I flicked through my notebook, waiting impatiently for the class to begin.

  Everyone sat anxiously, eyes on the door, waiting for it to swing open. When it finally did, it was so quiet I swear you could have heard a pin drop.

  Holy mother of God.

  This was our new teacher? My heart was racing just looking at him. He was fucking adorable.

  He had light brown messy hair cut short enough that all he probably did was run a hand through it in the morning, and a crooked smile that sent my stomach into a spin. He was tall, athletic, and oh so sexy.

  But what I noticed first were his eyes.

  They were the deepest blue I’d ever seen. Beautiful long dark lashes framed them, and you couldn’t help but be drawn in. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was, but there was something about him: something that made me lose all sense of everything else around me.

  He looked about mid-twentyish, his tanned skin criminal in the middle of this harsh winter. I glanced down at my own pasty white skin and silently cursed him.

  What the hell were they thinking, putting this poor guy in here among several hundred teenage girls, some of whom had been cooped up here so long that the only male specimen they had seen was the middle-aged science teacher with a beer gut that rivaled the belly of a heavily pregnant woman?

  That was just asking for trouble, and trust me—no one could quite cause trouble like some of these girls.

  He smiled again. Was he nervous? I sure would be. He looked pretty relaxed though, considering what he’d just walked into. He was like a piece of bloody meat in a tank full of sharks. I watched as he sat casually on the edge of his desk, hands in pockets, glancing around the room, apparently not fazed by every set of eyes in the area focused squarely on him.

  “Hey, I’m Mr. Reid. Your teacher has gone into labor, I hear, so you’re stuck with me for the next eight weeks.”

  God, even his voice was amazing—low and husky; he could’ve done voiceovers for porn ads. He smiled again and I nearly fell off my chair. Kass sniggered next to me. I shot her a look.

  “A little bit about me. I’m fresh out of college, and this is my first teaching assignment. I’m originally from a small town just north of Los Angeles. I like good music and classic movies, and teaching is all I’ve ever wanted to do.” He stood up and paced back and forth along the front of the room.

  “How about I get to know some of you?” There was a low rumble of giggles, from myself included, everyone thinking just how much they’d like to get to know Mr. Reid. “So I want each of you to stand up, tell me something about yourself, and then ask me something. Sound good?”

  We went around the room, girls nervously telling him something about themselves and then asking him a question, like his favorite color, or food. He pointed at Paige. She stood up, her eyes narrowing in on him as she smiled.

  “I’m Paige, and I love dancing. I have a very flexible body,” she practically purred. I groaned, embarrassed for her. Why didn’t she just try and mount him then and there?

  “Uh, well that’s good for your dancing,” he said, flustered. “And you’re question for me, Paige?”

  “Your phone number?” Everyone giggled. Kass caught my attention and rolled her eyes at me.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” He chuckled, turning to Deena who sat next to Paige.

  My heart began to pound as it neared my turn. What did I tell him? What should I ask? These seemed like the most important decisions of my life right now. Forget about college, and things that were actually important, all I wanted to was to stand out from the rest of these girls.

  “And you?” His eyes met mine and I froze. Kass nudged me with her foot, forcing me back to reality. I stood up, my chair shooting back into the wall. I was the last person.

  “I’m Wrenn. I-I’m originally from Washington, and I just moved here a few months ago.” He smiled at me, his mesmerizing eyes making me dizzy.

  “What do you want to ask me, Wrenn?” Hearing him say my name made me begin to sweat. I could feel the trickle of perspiration running down the back of my neck. I hated being the center of attention, but being the focus of his attention was almost unbearable. I said the first thing that came to mind.
<
br />   “Mornings or evenings?” He raised his eyebrows at me, a shadow of a smile on his lips. “Are you a morning person, or a night owl?” I said, feeling the need to explain.

  “Definitely not a morning person. I don’t function very well before midday.”

  He grinned as I sank into my chair, his eyes lingering on me for another moment, before snapping back to attention.

  “Well, let’s get straight into things, huh? If you could all turn to page forty-six, one of you can run over what you covered in your last lesson.”

  I forced my attention away from the new teacher and focused on my books. I didn’t need a distraction right now, no matter how sexy the distraction was.

  The last year had been hard, and the last eight months had been hell. School was something I hated with a passion. It hadn’t always been that way though. Last year it had been a complete and utter different story. That’s how much things had changed.

  Last year I had friends, a boyfriend, and a family.

  And I wasn’t surrounded by money-obsessed skanks all day.

  Prep school was like my worst nightmare come true. When the thought ‘I wish I’d died along with the rest of my family’ crosses your mind on a daily basis, it’s pretty obvious you’re not in a great place emotionally. This place was hell. No, it was worse than hell, and I couldn’t wait to leave. I was counting the days until I graduated.

  Next month would mark exactly one year since I lost my family. It did get easier, but it’s not something you get over. The nightmares came most nights, and were almost expected. It was like a constant recount of what I’d lost.

  Every dream was the same: Me, in the back with my brother. I was wearing my new jeans. He had spilled soda in my lap and I was yelling at him. Mom was yelling at me to stop yelling, and Dad was trying to calm Mom down. I actually felt the moment the car hit the tree, the impact nearly splitting the car in half. I’d blacked out, and woken up in hospital.