Again: A Young Adult Romance Read online

  Copyright © 2019 by Rashmita Bhattacharjee

  All rights reserved. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in, or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known, hereinafter invented, without express written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

  Typewriter Pub, an imprint of Blvnp Incorporated

  A Nevada Corporation

  1887 Whitney Mesa DR #2002

  Henderson, NV 89014

  www.typewriterpub.com/[email protected]

  ISBN: 978-1-64434-046-2

  DISCLAIMER

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. While references might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  AGAIN

  Rashmita bhattacharjee

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Dedicated to Mummy and Papa, the unwavering pillars of my life

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  Prologue

  It’s a moonless night. I can hear the crickets chirping away somewhere in the trees as I walk down the long silent deserted street all by myself. But there’s nothing to feel afraid about. It’s always been a pleasant and safe neighborhood. Even if you happen to come across a street lamp that flickers oddly along with producing a really uncanny buzzing sound, it still remains a good neighborhood.

  As for me, I wasn’t even supposed to be out tonight in the first place. I’d planned to spend my last day of summer break curled up in bed, binge-watching on Netflix, but that didn’t work out well since Josh decided to drag me to an end-of-summer pool party. It was exasperating, to say the least. Loud music, booze, and teen hormones going wild in water. Let’s just say I managed to escape before anybody got a dare to kick me into the pool. Now, all I want to do is get home to my chocolate chip cookies.

  But turns out that would have to wait.

  As I walk past the riverside, I do a double take at something that I see which makes me stop in my tracks.

  There is this large old rusty white trailer by the side of the river that’s been lying abandoned and unused for years now. But tonight, I see a tall, bare-chested, young stranger doing carpentry work outside the trailer with a bright bonfire illuminating his space of work. A couple of trailer floorboards and various tools were lying around the place.

  I’ve never seen him before in Crawford Lane. Moreover, I’ve never seen a boy as handsome as him.

  From his messy black tousled hair to the tips of his toes, there is no flaw to be found in him. Be it his chiseled jawline that complements his sexy broad shoulders or his long, well-defined arms which lead to his perfect set of strong hands. Not that I’m checking him out or anything, but he could really use something modest to veil his steamy set of abs or even his flexing biceps.

  But I soon come to realize that it is his dark, brooding demeanor that intrigues me the most. The more I study him, the faster I feel my throat run dry. His rough use of the hammer on the nails makes me flinch. He seems to me like shadows guarding an enigma not meant to be deciphered.

  I’m entirely caught off guard when he looks up all of a sudden and those piercing set of dense blues find me. In that very moment, I feel paralyzed by an unknown fiery sensation.

  I can’t take my eyes off him. The intensity of his smoldering gaze is hard to bear and harder to escape. I stand numbly on the ground, staring at him. His eyes consume me whole. There’s a story in them that I don’t understand, a story I don’t want to know. All I want is to confine these moments to the realms of nonexistence and pretend I was never here.

  A sudden gust of wind slams the door of the trailer, causing him to glance at the direction of the loud sound. The trance breaks. I look away from him and feel my breath return to me at once.

  I drag my feet to move away from there with quick long strides, trying to erase every memory of him. An unknown fear starts to climb up my spine to suffocate every inch of my being. His presence is a threat to everything that I am, everything that I do, and all that I believe in. I don’t want to see him ever again. Ever.

  Chapter One

  I’ve always wondered why my life is the way it is. Why isn’t it better or worse? Why do the people I care about act in a certain way? The answers to those were there already in front of me tucked under the shadows of unconsciousness.

  But that changed this summer. I came to find those answers. Or rather the answers found me.

  I discovered something which I didn’t know existed. But it sure did all this time in my very own surroundings. I know it now. My life has changed ever since.

  And today is my first day back at school as a senior.

  My morning ritual on school days is pretty much basic. I yell at the alarm clock for waking me up on time. I then make my own bed, brush my teeth, take a good shower, and finally hunt down my closet for clothes like a pirate attacking a ship full of gold. I follow the madness with a calming breakfast.

  But today is different. I move along my morning activities like a dull snail wanting to go back to hibernation. Simply because I’m too exhausted to feel excited or nervous or whatever it is that people feel on the first day of senior year in high school. A terrible sleepless night does that to you.

  After stepping out of the bathroom in a towel, I put on a yellow lace summer dress and pair it up with black peep-toe boots. I leave my wavy black tresses to cascade down my shoulders before getting down to makeup. My hazel brown eyes look a lot better now than it did when I’d dragged myself out of bed earlier today. I think I look just fine now. I don’t get to contemplate it any further for there’s a knock on my door before it falls open.

  “Eleanor, sweetie, I got you French toast and strawberry milkshake.” I see Gran beaming at me in the mirror as she walks in.

  “Breakfast in bed?” I smile in surprise, putting the mascara down. “To what do I owe this rare luxury?” I add as I turn around to face her.

  “The kitchen is a bit me
ssed up right now,” she admits sheepishly. “Trying out a new recipe.”

  “All the best, and thanks, Gran.” I smile as she puts the tray down on the bed.

  “Your father had called after you went to bed early last night,” she informs. “He’s is in London and sends his best wishes on your first day of school.”

  “I’ll call him back.” I nod but I don’t mean it.

  My father, Eron Sanchez, left a couple days ago for a business trip to Europe. It’s not the first time he’s been gone for a while. Gran comes over to watch me whenever he is away on such work related trips. But I know somehow that it’s not gonna be the same this time around because Dad was being vague about his return.

  “Did he say anything about when he is coming back?” I ask, feeling doubtful.

  “He can’t say for sure this time, hon,” she responds kindly.

  “Oh.” I look down. I’m more than just sad. There’s a sinister pain cutting deep into my chest. But Gran doesn’t need to know that. She doesn’t need to know about my horrific nights since last week or the fact that my body runs cold every time I think about what I know.

  “Just so you know, hon, the stairs in this house are downright audacious!” I look up at Gran with a start as I register those words. She continues with a frown etched on her face. “Those asses need a good spanking―”

  Wait, did she just call the stairwell an ass? Okay.

  “I was about to nearly topple down on my way up here. I’m still young!” She nods thoughtfully, before fixing me with a serious look. “Just make sure there are ten shirtless young boys with glistening abs nursing me out of it.”

  I break into a laugh hearing that. She does too. Well, that’s Gran for you, always ready to kick some ass and never failing to cheer me up. Seriously, I don’t know what I’d do without her! My Granny Sanchez is an average-height woman with short brown hair and twinkling dark eyes. The wrinkles on her face couldn’t hide her youthful heart.

  But speaking of shirtless young boys…

  I push the thoughts away and start to eat my breakfast while Gran returns to cooking her new recipe. Once done eating, I gather my new books, shove them into my bag, and head downstairs, ready to leave for school.

  “Have a great day, hon!” Gran calls out cheerfully from the kitchen as I walk across the living room to the front door. “All the best for senior year. Stay out of trouble like you always do.”

  “Yes, I will, Gran, bye!”

  I step out into the hot sunny day and climb down the white front porch. I live in Crawford Lane. It is a nice, quiet, and friendly neighborhood having colorful houses with vintage rooftops. I moved in here with my father three years ago. No scandals or heavy gossip ever occur here. Everyone has a good reputation and everyone minds their own business.

  Outsiders regard it as one boring neighborhood. But I like this calm suburban lifestyle on the outskirts, unswayed by the hustle and bustle of a busy city like New York.

  I don’t have to wait long for a familiar bright red car soon pulls over in front of my house. The front door on the driver’s side opens and out steps a girl in black wedges dressed in a tiered short skirt of the lightest shade of brown and a sexy black off shoulder crop top. She has amazing straight chestnut brown hair framing her pear-shaped face and bright grey eyes smiling widely at me.

  “Hey, homie!” She wraps her lean arms around me in affection. I too return the warm and tight hug.

  Meet Steffy Bacall.

  Stef.

  My BFF.

  I’m so glad that she’s back. Stef was away doing an internship in New York City. So, we didn’t see much of each other over the summer.

  “Whoa, you look a lot better than you did on FaceTime in the last couple of weeks,” I tell her as we buckle up in her rose scented car. “Actually, you look great.”

  “Haha, thanks! Turning seventeen has its perks I guess.” Stef chuckles. “So how was the pool party anyway?”

  “Worse than what you saw on Instagram.” I shudder, and she laughs at my remark. And we’re on our way to school.

  As Stef drives us down the scenic lanes of Crawford Lane, we talk about what senior year would be like: the good, the bad, the evil, the myths, and the realities of being at the top of the high school chain. But the truth is I just can’t get myself to stay focused.

  Time and again my mind drifts back to the worst summer of my life that I’ve just had, and the uncertain future looming over my head. Should I talk to Stef about it? Maybe it’ll help. Or maybe it would make it a lot worse than it already is.

  “Earth to Eleanor. Earth to Eleanor.”

  Stef gives me a nudge in the arm, shaking off my train of thought. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” I’m apologetic.

  “Dude.” My friend glances sideways. “This is like the third time you’ve zoned out. Are you okay? You look somewhat…off.”

  “It’s just the pool party, nothing else.” I lie conveniently. “That, and also I’m pretty much nervous about senior year.”

  “Of course, you should be.” She snorts. “With a boyfriend like Luke Thomas, you can’t feel good ever.”

  “Not again, S!” I groan, throwing my head back.

  “I mean he’s popular and the most good-looking guy in school but ever since you started dating him, I can tell he’s a total ass. I’m sure he asked you to be his girlfriend only because of some ridiculous bet. And I’m being the protective friend here.”

  “Guess who’s been reading too much of cliché bad boy novels these days,” I drawl.

  “Bitch, puh-lease. Clichés are the real boss.”

  “Just in your head, bitch.”

  We squabble on that for the next couple of minutes until we pull up at the school’s parking lot. The Westford High campus and the hallways are buzzing with kids chatting and laughing as we step in through the tall iron gates. I can see familiar faces all around me. And yet I feel so disconnected, so alien, so foreign. I want to go back to being the girl I was all these years in high school—the girl who didn’t have guilt weighing in on her conscience.

  “We’ve three classes together,” said Stef as she compares our schedules in the hallways. “First up is English.”

  “Yeah, before that, I’m gonna go find Luke,” I tell her, shutting my locker close. “I’ll see you in class?”

  I turn around and almost bump into a brunette with a crew cut and mischievous brown eyes, a backpack slung over his shoulder: Josh Harper, a senior too—the one and only who dragged me to the pool party and then forgot all about me. I’m still so mad at him.

  “Sorry about last night,” he admits sheepishly. “Got a little something for ya.” He got me Ferrero Rocher. “It’s a peace offering.”

  Those are, like, my favorite chocolates aka comfort food. “Apology accepted.”

  Stef giggles. “Typical Josh and Eleanor.”

  Josh looks at her and then back at me. “At the risk of sounding like Steffy Bacall, Thomas is not the guy to be with.”

  “Both of you can really drop it.” I narrow my eyes at them. “Luke and I like each other. And I’m gonna go see him right now.”

  I go about in the crowded hallways looking for my boyfriend. My friends don’t approve of him at all. But it doesn’t matter. I know I’m with the right guy. And they just have to deal with it. I find the tall blonde boy I was looking for at the courtyard, guffawing with his friends and I walk over to him.

  “Hey, Luke, got a sec?” I call him from behind and he turns around to face me.

  “Hey, how are you doing?” He proceeds to hug me with a smile.

  I hug him back. It feels almost mechanical but I ignore it.

  “Not to be a whining girlfriend or anything but we hardly spoke all summer,” I tell him as we draw apart and walk away from his friends.

  “I’m sorry, E.” He stands facing me with solemn blue eyes. “I was caught up with our family business. You know how my dad is.”

  No one can ever be too busy for a quick p
hone call and a short text. But I refrain from telling him that. “If you’re not doing anything after school today, we can go grab coffee at The Mug,” I suggest.

  “Can’t,” he responds, running a hand across his angular fringe cut hair. “Got football try-outs. I’ll see you after that?”

  “Sure.” I nod with a smile. Luke pecks me warmly on the lips and the next thing I know, I’m watching him walk away.

  ***

  I walk into the English class and luckily the teacher isn’t here yet and Stef has saved me a seat next to hers. I sit myself down and she asks me about Luke. I tell her we’d be going out for coffee later today, hoping that I didn’t sound as bland as I feel.

  I take my books out of the bag and prepare for class. We’d be reading Shakespeare’s The Tempest. The noisy room falls silent all of a sudden. I look up but turns out it isn’t the teacher who just walked in.

  My eyes grow wide as I almost freeze in my seat. The new guy in school, it’s him. It’s him. Again.

  Dressed in a pair of black denim jeans, grey V-neck shirt under a full-sleeve black jacket and black boots―it’s the boy at the riverside from last night.

  He looks in my direction and his empty gaze locks with mine. But I tear my eyes away from him at once and look down at the book lying open in front of me. God, this can’t be happening!

  The teacher walks in soon after. And the boy from the riverside takes a seat somewhere at the back of the class.

  Chapter Two

  By lunch time, practically the entire school is talking about the new senior in Westford High. The girls can’t stop swooning over his irresistible good looks. They stop and stare at him every time they see him. As for the guys, some are indifferent while others are plain jealous.

  His name, I have come to know, is Devon Parker.

  “He moved in Crawford Lane just yesterday,” Stef tells me as we sit down at a table in the cafeteria with our lunch trays, “opted to live alone in the trailer by the riverside rather than with his father’s family.”