Awake

Awake by Natasha Preston





Acknowledgements



This gorgeous cover was created by Hilda Therese at Dalliance Design.

As always, Hilda, you ROCK! Thank you for just knowing exactly what I want. Even when I don’t!

Editing and proofreading by Emma Mack at Tink’s Typos.





Dedication

I’d like to dedicate this book to all of my readers. Thank you for making my dream come true.





Scarlett



IMOGEN NUDGED MY arm, nodding towards the classroom door with a predatory grin. “Finally some talent,” she whispered.

Okay, she wasn’t wrong. The guy standing by Mrs Wells’ door was gorgeous. Like, shouldn’t even be at our school gorgeous. Who is he?

“Welcome to Fordham High, Noah,” Mrs Wells said. “Take a seat over there.” She pointed to the space next to me, and Imogen gripped my forearm. “Scarlett and Imogen, you have most of the same classes as Noah this year so please show him around and make him feel welcome.”

Im’s face lit up. “Absolutely.”

Good luck, Noah.

He walked to our desk at the back of the classroom, demanding everyone’s attention, owning the room, but his focus was on me. I squirmed in my seat, heat flooding my face. He looked older, the way he carried himself with an air of I-don’t-give-a-crap.

“Hi,” he said, still staring at me.

“Hey. I’m Scarlett, and that’s Imogen.” I pointed to my best friend beside me. “I guess we’re your tour guides.”

“Thank you,” he replied. He even sounded older; he pronounced a lot more of every word than most of the kids here did. “Although this school is so small I doubt anyone could get lost.”

“So true!” Imogen said, leaning over the desk so Noah could see her past me. She brushed her light hair behind her shoulder and pouted her full lips.

Bobby turned around in his seat. “You like wrestling, Noah?”

Noah’s forehead creased. I held my hand up. “Bobby’s a WWE freak; he’s not offering you a fight.”

“Definitely not,” Bobby confirmed. “You look like you can handle yourself.”

Noah grinned. “Handling myself is what got me expelled from my last school.”

He didn’t seem like the fighting type, but then I’d known him for five seconds. Maybe he seemed older because he was. Maybe was repeating a year.

“How old are you? You look older than fifteen or sixteen,” I asked.

“No, I’m sixteen,” he replied. “What about you?”

“Same.”

“She’s just sixteen,” Imogen cut in, clearly annoyed at being ignored. “I am, too.”

I wanted to roll my eyes. As if he was going to take her over the desk right now just because she’d been the same age as him that little bit longer than me. “Yeah, it was my birthday last month,” I explained.

Still ignoring Imogen, Noah said, “It was my brother’s birthday last month, too. What date was yours?”

“Thirteenth. Thank God it wasn’t a Friday this year.”

He chuckled. His blue eyes were bigger and more beautiful when he laughed. “Are you superstitious?”

I nodded once. “Big time. I won’t walk under a ladder or cross path with a black cat. I wave to magpies, depending on how many there are, of course, and throw salt over my shoulder.” He cocked his eyebrow. I shrugged. “My parents are kinda superstitious, too. And suspicious.”

“Wow,” he said. “Well, you never know what’s out there in the big bad world.”

‘Out there in the big bad world.’ Déjà vu. I’d heard that somewhere before, but I couldn’t place it.

The bell rang, making me jump. “Ready for English Lit?” I asked Noah, ignoring the odd feeling inside.

“Not really. You are sitting next to me, right? You’re my tour guide after all.”

Imogen stalked off ahead, in a foul mood because she didn’t have Noah eating out of her hand.

I smiled. “Sure.”





“SO WHERE DID you move from?” I asked Noah as we walked to our second class of the day.

Throughout our fifty minute English lesson, Noah had quizzed me relentlessly. It was as if he was trying to learn every last thing there was to know. New kids weren’t usually this chatty. But I liked it and wanted to know all about him, too.

“Hayling Island.”

“Cool, what’s it like there?”

“Small,” he replied.

I’d learnt about it in Geography when we briefly covered the British Isles. It really was small.

“What made you move to Bath?”

“My dad’s job. Hayling wasn’t much fun, so it’s nice to be here.”

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