Suddenly I Knew

Chapter One.

I hear my alarm going off. I groan and sit straight up in my king-size bed, looking at the alarm before turning it off. It’s 5:30 in the morning. I sigh and get ready for the day—yet another boring Wednesday. The only good thing about today is that it’s only two more days until my birthday. I walk to my bathroom and turn on the shower so it can warm up. While the shower is warming up, I walk to my walk-in closet and take out a pair of denim shorts, a black tank top with a skull on it, and some underwear—nothing too fancy because I don’t need to impress anyone. And with the weather in Los Angeles, it’s not strange to wear something like that. With my clothes for the day in hand, I walk back to the bathroom and undress. I step into the shower and start washing my hair. When I’m done, I grab a towel, wrap it around myself, and wipe the condensation off the mirror. When I can see my reflection again, I sigh. I’m a 17-year-old girl—well, almost 18, but who’s counting? Not me. I shake myself out of my thoughts and look at the girl staring back at me: snow-white hair and ice-blue eyes that almost seem to glow when they catch the light. Snow Queen vibes, right? My hair is a birthmark, so I can’t help it. I refuse to dye it or wear a wig. At my tallest, I’m 5’5". Not tall at all, but hey, we can’t all be giants, can we? I have a small waist, a round behind, and kind of big boobs—big enough to give me back problems. But I can’t complain. I love myself no matter what, and anyone who has a problem with my looks can suck it. While thinking about this, I finish getting ready. I blow-dry my hair and put it in a high ponytail. I put on my tank top and shorts but quickly realized I had forgotten socks. I jump up and run to my closet to grab some. While I’m in there, I hear a knock on my bedroom door. Like any normal person, I yell, “Come in!” and walk out of the closet. When I return to my room, I see my mother, Skylar White. She’s a beautiful woman, standing 6 feet tall. Why I’m so short compared to her is a mystery. She has the same snow-white hair as I do, but unlike me, her eyes are ice-green. I’ve been told my ice-blue eyes come from my biological father. If that’s true, I wouldn’t know—the asshole walked out on my mom when I was just two months old. I look at my mom, who seems a little disappointed. I sigh, knowing what’s coming: she needs to work late again. I smile at her, trying to ease her guilt.

“It’s okay, Mom. I’ll see you when you get home. I’m not mad at you; you can’t help it,” I say, seeing the relief wash over her face.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve a daughter like you,” she says.

“You did nothing but be an amazing mom. You always put me first,” I reply.

“But is there something else? I need to pack my bag for school, and I’m meeting Rose at the usual place,” I ask.

“Well, I was going to ask if you need a ride to school, but I guess not.”

“Thanks, Mom, but I’m good.”

“How late are you going to be tonight, Mom?”

“Well, it’s going to be late, so I’ll leave you some money on the kitchen counter.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“No problem, honey. But you’d better go; otherwise, Rose will be out for blood, and you know it.”

“I know. I’m going now. Bye! See you tomorrow, Mom,” I say, running to grab my jacket and shoes. I get on my bike and head to the usual meeting place for Rose and me. When I see her waiting for me, I groan, knowing she’ll chew me out for being late—even if it’s just five minutes.

“Well, took you long enough, Vi,” Rose says.

“Sorry, Mom wanted to tell me she’s running late again tonight,” I replied.

Rose is my only friend in the world, and I wouldn’t trade her for a million dollars. She’s the only one who calls me Vi—a shorter nickname for Violette. But when she calls me Violette Isabella McReid, I know I’ve messed up. It’s the same for her: when I say Rose Esmee Johnsen, she knows she’s in trouble. Not that it happens often—we can’t stay mad at each other for long.

“We need to get going; otherwise, we’ll be super late. I’ve got class with Mr. Williams,” I say.

“Oh girl, you are so screwed,” Rose teases.

“I know, thanks for the reminder,” I sigh. As we ride, I notice Rose falling behind, so I slow down a little. Then I catch sight of her face and turn to look ahead of me. That’s when I see a car speeding toward me. Panic overtakes me, and I close my eyes, bracing for the hit. I hope it doesn’t hurt too much. But the impact never comes. Instead, I feel a strong gust of wind—so strong that I almost fall off my bike. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open my eyes. To my surprise, the wind pushed the car past me. I exhale in relief.

“Oh my god, Violette, are you okay?” Rose asks.

“I think so. The car didn’t hit me—it was just scary, nothing more.”

“Maybe this is a good excuse to be a little late to class,” Rose suggests with a grin.

“Always looking for a way to skip class, aren’t you?” I say, laughing.

“Well, yes. Mr. Williams is so boring. He talks so slow that I almost fall asleep whenever he speaks,” she replies. We laugh as we arrive at school and park our bikes. After locking them up, we head toward the school entrance. Distracted, I don’t pay attention to where I’m walking and bump into someone. Before I even see who it is, I blurt out, “Can’t you see where you’re going?”

“First of all, you bumped into me. Second, do you want to talk to me like that?” says Damian, one of the Jones twins. I look up and mutter under my breath, f**k.

“Look, I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention—it’s my fault,” I say, meeting Damian’s piercing gaze.

“It was both our faults. I forgot these doors open inward, so no worries,” he replies.

I notice my books scattered on the ground and bend to pick them up. Two extra pairs of hands join in. I glance up to see both Jones twins helping me. Confused, I wonder where Caleb came from. As I grab one of my books, I accidentally touch Damian’s hand and feel a jolt of electricity.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to grab your hand,” I stammer, looking away as my face flushes red.

“It’s fine, Violette,” Damian says.

“You know my name?” I ask, surprised.

“Yeah, we do, sweetheart,” Caleb answers with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. I roll my eyes at the nickname sweetheart. Then I hear Rose clearing her throat, snapping me back to reality. That’s when it hits me—I’m so going to get detention. I groan at the realization, quickly grab the rest of my books from the twins, thank them over my shoulder, and run to my locker. I grab Rose by the hand and drag her along with me.

“Thanks!” I call back to the twins, catching a glimpse of Damian staring at me while Caleb grins.