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PROLOGUE
FIVE YEARS AGO
Rebecca
This world was not made for me.
People talk too much and listen too little.
Ever since I was in kindergarten, I’ve despised introductions. It’s not because I lack finesse at them — because, honestly, I do — but rather because everything about me comes off as downright stupid. Each time I begin with my name, then proceed to rattle off the remaining details that happen to be in total contradiction, much like my very existence.
“Hi! My name is Rebecca Godwill. I was born on October 31st, a Halloween baby, and I am the preacher’s daughter.”
How stupid does that sound?
Probably just as stupid as what I’m about to pull off tonight.
I’m finally going to join the Crasnics of Matlock gang.
Now, how cool does that sound?
They’re very cool, no doubt about it, but it’s not their popularity that’s got me all hyped up. There is another reason, someone with an insanely beautiful name: Samael Morgenstern.
Samael stepped into my life during one epic summer. He became the very reason why I love this season. My first memory of him unfolds on a scorching day spent in his backyard.
I remember it all, so vibrant and vividly, as if it happened yesterday.
I’ve always felt this unexplainable bond between us as if I’ve known him since the day I set foot on Earth. I could recognize him by his walk, by his scent, by how his black hair glimmers with hints of blue in the sunlight, or how his beautiful eyes, the color of the ocean during a midnight stroll, reveal hues of a blue lagoon when the daylight shines upon them.
I know he loves books, but he’s also into football, which can be a little confusing for those who don’t know him as well as I do. Football players aren’t known for their reading habits, so I can say with absolute certainty that Samael’s preference leans more toward books.
He’s into baggy tees and plain hoodies, mostly in shades of black, gray, or blue. He also likes sneakers. Like, really likes them. I bet he’s got a secret stash of Converse kicks, and I recall scribbling the lyrics ‘OH - WELL - WHATEVER - NEVERMIND’ by Nirvana on the white part of a black-and-white pair. It’s a band he’s really into, just like me.
He holds an immense love for the dog he rescued from dogfighting, and I yearn for him to love me at least 10% as much as he loves Carla.
I realize I am locked in a rivalry with a dog because I’ve never seen Sami with girls, and if I haven’t caught him even once, then there’s certainly no one special in his life.
I seek to know everything about him because I care.
“So, if I pass this one last test, I’ll be one of you?” I whisper, gazing at the dimly lit alley winding through the gravestones surrounding St. Giles’ Church.
“Of course,” I hear Samael’s low and alluring voice echoes close to my ear, guiding me further while delicately holding my hand.
His touch it’s so gentle that I fear I might slip through his grasp, or worst, stumble and fall.
I trust him.
He will never let me fall.
Samael is different.
Anyway, Reminder: Don’t stumble, Becca!
Not that it matters, but I was going to embarrass myself in front of his cool friends, and it’s not the time to mess up, like I usually do.
I take a deep breath and continue to tread lightly on the slippery, cobblestone path, where the only faint rays of light I can make out beneath the red scarf that Samael blindfolded me with are from the candles lining the edge. I catch a whiff of burned wax. I bet his friends had sneaked back into the church again and swiped a few candles from the reception. It would surely annoy my dad, but he will get over it, and I would be part of the Crasnics of Matlock.
My wish is finally coming true!
