Author's Note: I completely own this novel. I have 20 Chapters complete, and will post as I receive reviews. Thanks so much for reading!

Hybrid

A Novel

By Katie Saychiadu

Chapter 1: School

“Ugh,” I muttered under my breath in frustration. I’m standing in my closet, searching frantically, but not finding what I’m looking for. I have piles of clothes, which were once neatly hung on their hanger, strewn across the floor. There are shoes which used to be paired with their mate now mismatched and out of place. What’s the reason for this chaos? It’s the first day of my junior year at Kensington Academy and I can’t find my favorite cerulean blue sweater vest. No, that wasn’t a mistake, I said “favorite” and “sweater vest” in the same sentence.

Kensington Academy has a strict dress code including the aforementioned sweater vest. I’m not complaining though, because most private schools have uniforms. “Kensie,” as most of the students affectionately refer to it, allows us to put our own spin on the traditional uniform. For example, females may wear a skirt or pants in either dark gray or black, accompanied by the ever-present white collared shirt and our choice of the following: sweater vest, blazer, or sweater in either red, blue, green or black. You can choose any shade of these colors, with the exception of neon or fluorescent tones.

Boys have the same choices, minus the skirt option. I don’t think anyone will forget the day last year when Derrick Ashton showed up wearing his sister’s skirt. He accomplished his goal of making everyone roar with laughter, but unfortunately for him, he also spent a month in detention.

I can’t believe my favorite sweater vest just disappeared. I specifically remember seeing it last night before bed. Throwing my hands up in frustration, I called “Mom!” as loud as I could.

“What is it, Lily?” my Mom asked, entering my room a few seconds later, not seeing me immediately. Then, her eyes came to rest on the anxious expression that I’m wearing, standing in the middle of my walk-in closet.

“I can’t find my cerulean sweater vest!” I whined. My Mom raised a perfectly arched eyebrow curiously at me. You see, I’m not the fashion queen in the family. That title belongs to my older sister, Janie Parker. I have no doubt that she’s been awake since five thirty this morning making her already gorgeous self even more beautiful.

Regardless, I’m not oblivious when it comes to knowing what to wear to look my best and on this hot day in September, I know that I need a sweater vest, not a blazer and not a sweater. I also know that my cerulean vest is the most complimentary to my dark blue eyes. My Mom closed the closet door so that I’m left in the dark. Shoot, I forgot to turn the light on.

Just as quickly as she had closed the door, she opened it and held out my vest, hanging neatly on a hanger. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

“Mom, you’re a genius! I forgot that I hung it on the closet door so I wouldn’t be late!” I kissed my Mom on the cheek and grabbed my favorite skirt which was also on the back of the door.

“You better hurry, Lily,” she replied, smiling a little at my compliment, “Janie and Alex are already in the car. You don’t want to be late on your first day of school.”

Alex is my little brother who’s starting his freshman year at Kensie. As if Janie had heard our mother, she honked the horn twice. I threw my arms into my white collared shirt and started to button it as fast as I could.

“Lily,” my Dad entered the room, “You better hurry up--”

“Dad! Don’t you knock?” I asked horrified at the fact that my father just caught me standing there half naked.

Just as shocked and embarrassed as I am, a crimson blush rose to his cheeks and he said “Oh, sorry!” and left the room faster than he had entered. I finished getting dressed in record time then paused at the mirror one last time, pleased with my reflection. My long, slightly wavy, chocolate brown hair is hanging loosely, just below my shoulders. I made sure that it wasn’t frizzy or out of place, then ran for the kitchen.

Just as I opened the refrigerator door to grab a glass of orange juice, Janie honked the horn again, rightfully growing impatient. I decided to forego the juice in favor of a more portable bottle of water and an equally convenient apple from the fruit bowl.

“Bye Mom! Bye, Dad!” I called, unaware they were waiting for me by the front door, each with a hug and a kiss goodbye.

“Have a good first day!” they chimed in unison. I rolled my eyes and ran out to Janie’s Land Rover and climbed in the back seat. If I hadn’t already made my siblings wait for a good ten minutes, I would’ve taken the time to argue with Alex to get out of my seat.

“Sorry,” I muttered under my breath.

“It’s okay,” Janie said in her cheerful voice, flipping her long straight auburn hair over her shoulder with her left hand. “Senior year here I come!” She pressed the gas pedal down and we lurched forward. I looked back at my house, seeing my Dad standing on the wide porch with his arm around my Mother. I have to admit they look like a perfect, but boring, couple. My mom looks a lot like me, or maybe I should say I look a lot like her. We have the same dark blue eyes and chocolate brown hair. She’s naturally very pretty and seldom fusses with make-up. My Dad is also dark haired with brown eyes and a kind smile. They waved at us like we’re toddlers heading off to our first day of kindergarten on the school bus.

Then, my Dad bent down and kissed my mom. Yuck. Sometimes they act like teenagers. In disgust, I turned my attention back to Janie and said “Speak for yourself!”

“Yeah, I’m only a freshman,” Alex groaned.

“Don’t worry, Alex,” Janie assured him, “four years will fly by.” She reached forward and turned up the stereo volume up, humming along to a song we’ve all heard a hundred times. Then, excitedly she said “I hope I have a lot of classes with Javier!”

Alex scoffed and I teased her, “Ooh, Javier.” I pronounced “Javier” like “Jav-eee-air,” drawing out the syllables. He and Janie just started dating this past summer, much to my father’s chagrin.

“Oh, whatever, Lily,” Janie roller her eyes, then smirked. “You’re just jealous. I bet you wish Mark Slater attended Kensington Academy. Maybe Mom and Dad will transfer you to Fulton Heights High if you ask nicely enough.”

“Really, Janie? Is that best you can come up with?” I asked sarcastically.

Mark Slater? What made her think of him? Mark is the son of Joshua and Laura Slater who are good friends with my parents, Matt and Elizabeth, “Beth” for short, Parker. We used to be really good friends as children. Mark is my age, 16, and we always got a long well. That is until he turned 13 and suddenly didn’t want to hang out with me anymore.

I probably haven’t even seen him in a year or more. When his parents come to my house, Mark doesn’t come along like he used to.

“Aren’t you two married?” Janie laughed.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Don’t you remember? I was your wedding coordinator! Eve was your maid of honor and Alex was the ring bearer.” Janie refreshed a memory I had forgotten about of when Mark and I were seven years old. We had a pretend wedding, hoping that if we were married, he would be able to stay and hang out at my house all the time. Eve, who Janie had referred to, is our cousin who is also a junior at Kensie. Eve and Janie are really best friends even though Eve is technically closer to my age, though we’re all not far apart.

“That was when we were seven, Janie,” I scowled.

“Shut up, you two,” Alex chided. “When are you going to grow up?” We all laughed at that considering he’s the one who should be acting immature, not the other way around. An outsider listening in may think we don’t get along well, but we do. This is just our way of communicating. I reached forward and messed up his strategically placed light brown hair. “Hey!” he objected and smacked my hand away.

As we drove toward the school which is only ten minutes from our house, I glanced at the trees flying by. We live in a medium sized town called Fulton Heights. It’s your typical suburban city on the East Coast with mainly middle class families and “soccer moms” galore.

My mother actually is a “soccer mom,” since Alex has played the sport for the past six years. Janie participates in the Kensington Academy Fashion League, of which she is the inventor. Last spring, she single handedly lead the movement which resulted in the school board amending the dress code to allow three quarter length sleeves. I have been on the track team for the past 4 years, since running is one of my favorite hobbies and I can be a little competitive about it.

My family belongs to the upper-middle class by income standards. My father, Dr. Matthew Parker, is a psychiatrist, but that’s not his source of funds. He volunteers and donates his time to local hospitals for patients who can not afford to pay for psychiatric treatment. He gets to make his own schedule which means he’s around a lot.

His parents died in an accident when he was younger, leaving him well off. How well off, I don’t know since he doesn’t like to talk about them very much. He has one sister, my Aunt Sofia, who is Eve’s mother. Aunt Sofia’s husband is Uncle Joe and Eve has a brother, Rob, who’s away at college. My mother was an only child, but her parents are still around. That doesn’t leave very much extended family, like some of my friends have, but my house is always full of people regardless.

”We’re here!” Janie announced, gliding into a parking space in the student lot. She jumped out and ran off, calling over her shoulder, “Good Luck!” I got out of the car and glanced around, noticing that we’re one of the last to arrive, thanks to me. I took a deep breath, threw my book bag over my shoulder walked toward the ancient looking school.

Okay, maybe Kensington Academy isn’t exactly “ancient,” but it isn’t modern either, like Fulton Heights High. It’s a large, three story brick building that was built in the very early 1900s. The inside however is very modern, since everything was completely renovated five years ago.

“Come on, Alex,” I said, “I’ll show you where the freshmen can pick up their schedules.”

“Thanks, Lily,” he said. I can tell he’s intimidated by the size of the crowd swarming the entrance. As we entered the school, I pointed to the tables set up for ninth graders and went off in search of my locker. I received my locker number, lock combination and class schedule over the summer.

I went to junior hall on the second floor and found locker two fourteen easily. To my delight, I saw my best friend, Elena Martin, only a few lockers away.

“Laney!” I called to get her attention. Only I’m allowed to call her that, and, only sometimes. If I call her “Laney” too often, she gets agitated.

“Lily!” she responded just as cheerful to see me as I am to see her. Her wide, chestnut eyes looked relieved as she said, “I was wondering where you were.”

“I had a few moments of stupidity this morning,” I laughed. “Don’t ask.”

This summer, Elena and I had compared our schedules, so I already know that we have first period Trigonometry together with Mr. Varner, and later in the day we have lunch sixth period and World History with Ms. Harris immediately after. That’s much better than last year when we had no classes together and different lunch times.

Elena has been my best friend since first grade. She’s sort of like another sister since she spends a lot of time at my house, preferring it to her lonely one. Both of Elena’s parents are full time workaholics and when they get home, they aren’t exactly the warmest people in the world. All they care about is that Elena gets straight “A’s” on her report card.

“Are you ready to go face Mr. Varner and his death breath?” she giggled.

“As ready as I’ll ever be!” I linked my arm in hers and we went to class. It wasn’t so bad. The first day is never too terrible. Mr. Varner did assign us homework, but at least it’s just to read and not solve problems.

The morning dragged on and when the bell rang for lunch, I was so grateful for the mental break. It’s not that I don’t like school. I actually do like it. I just have a rough adjustment period every September after my summer time freedom. I’m not a morning person, so getting up at six thirty every day is not my idea of a good time. I met Elena back at our lockers so we could walk to the cafeteria together.

“How was your morning?” I asked her.

“Pretty good, actually. I have the new teacher, Mr. Grant for Spanish IV. You’ll see why that’s a good thing when you have class later. He looks like he’s a senior in high school rather than a teacher.” Elena’s deep mocha skin blushed and she pushed a few strands of her black hair over her shoulder. We laughed and joined the lunch line.

As I approached the steam table, filled with overly processed, greasy food, I passed and went to the sandwich bar. After making my favorite, but totally weird according to Elena, combination of turkey on whole wheat with light mayonnaise, black olives and pickles, we left in search of a table. Luckily, I spotted our friends Vanessa, Sarah and Mallory at a table near the wall of windows on the west side of the cafeteria.

“Hi, everyone,” I smiled, placing my tray down and sliding into an empty seat.

“Hey guys,” they all replied within a couple of seconds of one another. I noticed some fellow juniors were seated at the other end of the table, engrossed in their own conversation.

I picked up my sandwich and began to eat slowly and join in the general chatter.

“Spending the whole summer in L.A. was amazing,” Vanessa remarked. I could see that her summer in California had deepened her already tan complexion. Her normally long straight black hair was cut much shorter in one of the latest fashions of a modern bob where the front pieces are angled longer than the back. It looked great on her and I noticed my fingers had automatically begun to play with my own hair which had been the same style since I can’t even remember when. It’s just long with loose curls. Maybe I should think about trying a different style soon. “I mean, my parents’ getting a divorce is terrible, but I can’t complain about the place where my Dad chose to settle down even if it is on the other side of the country.”

“I guess its okay to look at the bright side of it,” Mallory added, her taut, deep red curls bouncing as she nodded her head.

“Hey,” Sarah, the only blonde in our little group, changed the subject, “did anyone get a chance to see the movie, Superbad?”

“Yes!” Vanessa exclaimed. “Hysterical.”

“I wasn’t allowed to see it. My parents said it was too inappropriate for someone their age, let alone a sixteen year old,” Elena sulked. “How would they know anyway? They didn’t even see it.”

“It was so funny,” Sarah started to say, but never continued her sentence. Instead, her hazel eyes just stared past my shoulder at something I couldn’t see. Her thin crimson lips opened in awe and asked, “Who is that?” She paused between each word for emphasis.

“Who is who?” Mallory inquired.

Sitting next to Sarah, Vanessa was able to see who Sarah was drooling over. “He’s so…” Vanessa commented, searching for the right word with a pleased expression on her face.

“Dangerous,” Sarah finished her thought.

“Exactly,” Vanessa confirmed the description. Conspicuously, Elena, Mallory and I all turned in our chairs to catch a glimpse of whomever the other two were speaking about. Immediately, I could see the person they are so fascinated with is Mark Slater. Wow, I haven’t seen in awhile and he looks like he’s all grown up.

I took in his features, noticing his once boyish face is now chiseled with perfect angles. It’s not too angular, but not too soft either. His tan skin looks flawless; his charcoal eyes are gorgeous, accented by thick black lashes. His mouth remained in a straight line, no hint of amusement played on his pink lips. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and looked up at the ceiling for a second with a look of boredom crossing his features.

As he lowered his eyes, he made contact with mine, suddenly aware that there are five pairs of eyes staring at him. Everyone else looked away as quickly as possible, but I let my eyes linger a moment, smiling slightly until he narrowed his eyes in a surprisingly very unfriendly way. I turned back to the table bewildered and saw the other girls laughing at being discovered.

“He’s so hot,” Sarah said between giggles.

“Lily knows him,” Elena volunteered.

“Really?” Vanessa asked excitedly.

“Yeah,” I replied casually. “His parents are friends with my parents.”

“And you used to be joined at the hip,” Elena laughed.

“Don’t hold back on us,” Sarah begged.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, feeling a slight blush creep up on my cheeks. “We used to play together, but that was a long time ago.”

“Will you introduce me to him?” Vanessa asked.

“Sure,” I replied and quickly changed the subject back to school related topics. “So do any of you have Ms. Harris for World History? Elena and I have that next period.”

We continued to talk easily for the next several minutes, but I found my mind wandering to the menacing expression I had seen cloud over Mark’s handsome face. Was it my imagination? I mean, sure, we haven’t been good friends in a few years, but he’s never been angry with me. Why is he here at Kensington Academy anyway? He’s always gone to public school before. Hopefully Vanessa will forget about the introduction I promised her. No such luck.

“Lily!” Vanessa called for my attention since I had stopped paying attention to their conversation. “He’s getting up, let’s go!” She jumped out of her seat and I followed her. After placing our trays inside the large window of the dish room, we had to jog to keep up with Mark’s long strides. As we closed the distance, she whispered to me, “Say something.”

“Mark?” I kept my voice low, hoping he wouldn’t hear me. He had heard me though. He turned around and spotted the two of us quickly. He stood there, crossing his arms, looking down at the pair of us, not saying a word. “H-how are you?”

“Fine,” he replied, his tone seething with irritation.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to remain calm and cool.

“What’s it to you?” Again, there’s an obvious note of annoyance in his words. Is this really Mark Slater? It’s certainly not the boy I remember as my once best friend.

“What is your problem?” the exasperated words flew from my mouth before I could stop them.

“You are. Now go away, Lily,” he turned and walked quickly to catch up with Corey Shaffer and Garrett Meadows, two of the most notoriously bad guys in the junior class. I gawked as he retreated, unable to move.

“What was that all about?” Vanessa sounds as confused as I feel.

“I have no idea…” I replied, dumbfounded. She shrugged her shoulders and muttered something about “men, who needs them?” under her breath. “I… I’ll see you later, Vanessa.” I turned and headed for the stairs to go to World History. I know Elena will be disappointed that I didn’t wait for her, but after I tell her about the odd exchange I just had with Mark, she’ll forgive me.

Thankfully, the afternoon flew by more quickly than the morning did. My last class of the day is Spanish IV and I do see what Elena was talking about with Mr. Grant. He’s cute. For a teacher, that is.

When the dismissal bell rang at two fifty five, I headed straight to the car, not needing to pause at my locker. I leaned against the passenger door to wait for Janie and Alex. A minute passed and to my discontentment, I saw Mark Slater walking toward me, looking beyond where I’m standing now. Without eye contact, though he must have known I was there, he stalked past me and got in his blue Honda Pilot.

I could feel myself start to get upset. Upset that Mark was acting so weird. Upset that I’m letting him upset me. And mostly, upset that I have no idea what’s happening. I closed my eyes for a minute, took a deep breath and decided, although I feel like crying right now, I refuse to let Mark Slater get to me.

- 22 -

© Copyright 2008 Katie Saychiadu (FictionPress ID:600134).