Awakened: the story of Andromeda

By Tiffany M. Oharriz

Paranormal, Fantasy, Flash fiction, Young adult, Short stories


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3 mins

Chapter One

"Damn it" I cursed softly, stuffing my scarf in my locker and slamming it shut in the seemingly empty hallway. Up until this exact moment, the day had the makings of a great day at school. Yesterday was my seventeenth birthday and my parents had actually made the time to call me to wish me a happy birthday. Maybe it was guilt at missing yet another milestone in my life or maybe it was something else entirely, but they had also told me they had wired some cash into my account for birthday spending and a little extra to hold my little sister Linda and I over till the end of the week when their business seminar ended. I was under express orders to celebrate this weekend with my best friend August. "You're only young once. Enjoy your youth while you can." they said, which was precisely why I was currently scrambling through my bag in hopes that I had not forgotten my car keys yet again.
"Ah fuck." I muttered in dismay watching as the contents of my bag splattered all across the school hallway with mere minutes until the bell rang releasing the stir crazy students hoping to get out of here quickly and make it to the next happening party or whatever night club would let them in.
Bending down quickly, I haphazardly smashed my papers and odd ends into my bag still not finding my keys amongst the mess that was now my purse. With a huff I plopped my bag on the floor and scanned the hallways for any sign of the shiny key ring adorned with a clunky green name charm. I caught the tall tale twinkle and shimmer of sunlight hitting metal off to my right. I must have looked like a complete idiot when I turned, gaping at the keys dangling off the index finger of a smirking Davis Fisher.
Davis was an absolutely beautiful senior boy, popular and from what I could tell an obnoxious nice guy. I know that beautiful isn't the most popular term for a guy but he was and while one might argue that obnoxious and nice guy didn't really fit together, he somehow made it work for him. He wasn't one of the bullying types or mean in any way really, but he just had this way about him that annoyed me. He had the most mesmerizing periwinkle blue eyes that glowed when the light hit them just right, which seemed to happen quite often. He was also blessed to have the clearest alabaster skin and I couldn't help but notice that he always wore his dark black hair in that disheveled look that was all the rage. I wasn't sure if it was the perfect unkempt look or the fact that he was just too nice that irked me beyond belief, but there was something in the way he walked and talked that rubbed me the wrong way. He made me crazy and I can't recall ever actually speaking to him, except for the odd 'I'm sorry' that most people exchange when bumping into each other in the crowded school hallways, if that.
We lived in a small town where basically everyone knew everyone and Davis was no exception. We had a couple of classes together throughout the years, but that was where our interactions ended. I wasn't unpopular exactly, but I wasn't as involved with school politics or clubs and he was; I guess you could call it different cliques but our school didn't run in your typical high school hierarchy groups. There was no social hierarchy, no King and Queen of the school, no 'it' crowds, no cliques, nothing as life defining as that. It was just your run of the mill high school. So I guess you couldn't really describe us as two people from different cliques, now could you? We were just strangers in a mass of endless faces.

"These yours?" his silky smooth voice made its way across the hallway, caressing my ears. Nodding dumbly, I found I was suddenly unable to control my ability to speak or more importantly my basic body functions. I attempted to take a step towards him and somehow ended up tangled up on the floor with my purse grabbing greedily at my ankles. My cheeks must have been flaming red, announcing my embarrassment to the world and yet the beautiful boy patiently extended his hand to me flashing yet another one of those knee-weakening smiles. "You okay?" he asked me as I got to my feet but I was so busy glaring daggers at my purse he had to repeat himself. By some miracle of God, I was able to muster up enough common sense to reply with a soft spoken "Yea, thanks" all while I stood still staring down at the floor.
I felt, more than heard, his laughter at my embarrassment. It's kinda of like that feeling you get when it's really quiet and you just know, you can feel your skin prickling in awareness that somebody is staring at you. And the only thing you ever accomplished is further embarrassment.
His laugh was so perfect, it had a very endearing quality to it and served as one of the many reasons his presence bothered me. No one was that put together, at least not all day. Grabbing my limp arm gently, he placed my keys in my hand. "Your name is Andromeda right?"
I suffer from what August calls severe foot in mouth disease, so it was a knee jerk reaction to let the sarcasm out when I held my keys to his face and responded to his question with an eye roll and a snarky "Obviously, not many girls in this town running around named Andromeda and sporting a bright green name charm made by their sister. Besides, everyone calls me Andy."
I could feel my cheeks flaming again, the burn of my blush rushing up past my cheeks, covering my nose and ears, stopping only once it had made it past my hairline and down my exposed neck. "Damn it" I muttered again, hating myself for removing my scarf earlier and wondering why I had allowed my stupid mouth to open before my brain had a chance to censor my thoughts. Amazingly though, it seemed my verbal lashing had done little if anything to effect his carefree mood because it only served to make his smile all the more devastating, which pissed me off even more.
"Davis Fisher." He said casually as a form of introduction, reaching up to grab the hand that was still dangling my key chain in front of him awkwardly. When his hands made contact with mine, my heart fluttered and when he kissed my knuckles like a gentleman out of a romance novel my knees buckled. His lips were warm on my cold skin and my cheeks if possible reddened even more. Suddenly I couldn't speak and my mouth felt as if it were stuffed with a giant wad of cotton....



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