Breeding Ground
Book 1 in the Breeding Ground Saga
You never know who might be an alien . . .
Read book one for free!
All Lenora wants is to be a good friend. That changes when her parents die in a mysterious explosion. Now Lenora is alone with no time to grieve because her own life is being threatened. Whatever her scientist parents were working on, there are people willing to kill for it. They donât believe that Lenora isnât privy to their secrets.
Shot up and facing certain death, Lenora is rescued by an attractive stranger. He claims to have known her parents. Can she trust him? Armed with little more than sarcasm and a love of books, will Lenora find a way to continue her parentsâ work and save Earth before itâs too late?
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Trigger warning! My heart goes out to anyone whoâs been a victim of assault. For this reason, I wanted to warn you that this book contains a rape scene. Itâs not graphic, and I promise it wouldnât be there if I could have avoided it. If this subject matter is too painful for you, please try one of my other books instead.
Is a teenager a match for an alien horde?
This book is part of a series, so you'll want to make sure you read them in order.
The Breeding Ground Series:
Breeding Ground
Alien Territory
Expanding Empire
Sample chapters
CHAPTER ONE
Lenora Gates woke to the sound of her phone ringing. She winced when she realized it was the unholy hour of four a.m. Thanks to her latest book obsession, Pride and Prejudice, she hadnât gotten to sleep until sometime after two.
She didnât even have to look at the caller ID. She knew it would be Rachel because Rachel was her only friend. Theyâd been BFFs since they were little, but lately Lenora had started to feel like they had nothing in common.
Not wanting to give up, Lenora had tried countless times to cultivate some common interests. But none of her efforts seemed to be working. Her failure might have had something to do with the fact that according to Rachel, reading wasnât cool, at least not for teenagers. She loved her friend. She just didnât know how to act around her anymore. It was like at some point theyâd just drifted apart.
The phone rang again, forcing her back to the present. Lenora grabbed it, and swiped to answer. She immediately pressed the speaker button and set the phone on the pillow next to her.
âIf I crash my car on the way to school itâs your fault for robbing me of much needed sleep,â Lenora joked.
She could usually count on Rachel for a laugh. So, when she didnât hear anything, she knew something was up. That meant it was time to pay attention. Lenora had become an expert at âsupportive listeningâ as her mother called it. Too bad no one ever seemed to listen to her.
Rachel didnât acknowledge that Lenora had spoken. She didnât laugh at her wittiness. Instead, she bypassed speech altogether and launched straight into crying.
âWhatâs wrong?â Lenora asked hurriedly.
She fidgeted while she waited for Rachel to speak. She ran a hand through her long dark brown hair, cringing when she encountered a large ratâs nest in the back. As she didnât feel like pulling back the blankets and hunting down a brush, she gave up on her feeble attempts to finger-comb her hair.
Instead, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, eyes that were so dark it was hard to see where the iris ended and the pupil began. As the seconds ticked on, she tried to remember how long it had been since sheâd last played hooky. It was going to be a long miserable day with no sleep. Would her parents believe her if she claimed to be sick?
Poor Rachel never got to skip because her mother taught biology at the high school they both attended. Lenoraâs parents were also scientists, but fortunately they worked at the college level so they couldnât track her every move. Lenora focused her attention back on her friend, whoâs crying had now turned into a full-on sob fest.
âMy mom is going to kill me,â Rachel moaned hoarsely.
âYour mom only likes to kill helpless creatures like frogs and butterflies,â she teased.
Once again Lenoraâs joke was met with silence. Whatever this was, it seemed bigger than Rachelâs usual panic attacks about not getting new shoes or the cafeteria being sold out of chocolate muffins.
âSeriously, whatâs going on?â she asked nervously.
âPromise you wonât tell anyone,â Rachel insisted.
âI promise,â Lenora agreed. Exactly who did Rachel think sheâd spill the beans to? She had no other friends.
âIâm pregnant,â Rachel whispered. There was a long pause as Lenora sat still, desperately hoping sheâd somehow heard wrong. âDid you hear me? I said Iâm pregnant!â
âIâm here. Just processing,â Lenora shot back.
She was stunned. She had no idea what to say in a situation like this. Had she missed school the day theyâd prepared students for grown-up drama like this? Perhaps theyâd had a special talk in the auditorium about what to say when your best friend screws up her life. She knew she had to say something, anything. Ultimately, she decided that a vague question would be the safest course of action. Â
âWhat are you going to do?â
Lenora held her breath, hoping she hadnât said the wrong thing. Deep down sheâd wanted to ask Rachel if sheâd forgotten to use a condom. Instead, she kept her negative thoughts where they belonged, locked silently inside her brain. Lenora had learned early on to censor her random and sarcastic thoughts.
Rachel was talking so fast that she was having a hard time keeping up, but she did her best to be supportive. Given the early hour and her lack of sleep this wasnât easy. When she began to drift off, she pinched herself hard on the arm to force herself awake. She was determined to be there for her friend even if it required a heavy dose of caffeine later.
Lenora realized Rachel had paused and that meant she needed some sort of answer.
âUh huh,â she mumbled, hoping that her generic response made sense.
âGreat. Thanks for letting me crash at your house this weekend,â Rachel replied.
âOf course. Just gotta ask the parents for a pink plus affirmative sign,â Lenora said. Her pregnancy test wisecrack wasnât appreciated.Â
âI canât believe youâre joking about this, Lenora! Seriously! I have to go before my mom wakes up.â
Lenora tried to apologize, but the phone beeped, letting her know that her friend had hung up on her. For a while she just sat there, cradling the phone in her hand. Why, out of all her friends, had Rachel chosen to share this secret with her? She couldnât help but feel a little honored.
Turning her head to her dresser, Lenora stared at a framed picture of her and Rachel smiling together. Rachel was popular, likely thanks to her outgoing personality, her spontaneous nature, and the fact that she was a cheerleader. With her blond hair, blue eyes, and perfect smile sheâd never struggled in the boyfriend department.
Lenora wasnât gregarious or popular. She was the quintessential loner. Because she didnât like being the center of attention, sheâd never really envied Rachel. She had been content to live in her shadow. Many times sheâd considered how much easier her life would be if she could just act more like her friend, but it simply wasnât in her nature.
She was overwhelmed with sadness for Rachel. One mistake and sheâd become another teen pregnancy statistic. No matter what decision Rachel made, her life would be irrevocably altered. She tried to force her brain to think about anything else, but sheâd learned long ago that her thoughts had a mind of their own.
She frowned at the ceiling and gave in to her wandering imagination. She grabbed a pillow from the bed and shoved it beneath her shirt. She adjusted the cushion so that it lay right on top of her stomach. For a moment she stared down at her giant fake pregnant belly.Â
âThis is crazy,â she muttered. The added fullness from the padding distorted her figure to the point where it didnât even look like her body anymore.
How could Rachel have done this to herself? Lenora wondered. Very quickly she realized that she had no room to judge Rachel. After all, sheâd never been faced with the same temptation. Boys werenât exactly beating down her door. In order for her to risk pregnancy, a boy would have to first ask her out on a date.
It was hard to imagine doing something so irresponsible, but who knew howâd sheâd respond if a boy ever paid that much attention to her? With a few seductive words and some thoughtful gifts, she might have found herself in exactly the same predicament as her friend. She yanked the pillow out from under her shirt and tossed it carelessly to the ground.
Who was the father? Rachel was always dating someone new, so it was hard to keep up. Lenoraâs mother called her friend âboy crazyâ and she wasnât wrong. Whoever the guy was, Lenora was reasonably certain that the mystery baby daddy would be revealed at lunch.
She was sure sheâd feel exhausted later, but there was no way she could possibly fall back asleep. Her mind was wide awake, and she felt supercharged, as if all the neurons in her brain were firing at once. Her mind was a mass of unanswered questions. Would Rachel want to keep the baby? Would she give the child up for adoption? What would people at school say? What would her mother do to her? Would her friend lose her popular cheerleader status?
Poor Rachel. It was as if her life had ended before it had really begun. And what really upset her was that she still couldnât think of a single thing that she could do to help her friend. In the end, all she could do was offer her total support. Whatever Rachel decided she would stand by her. No judgment. Just loyalty and encouragement.
In her hour of need, Rachel had chosen to call her out of all her friends. That was the thought that her mind kept circling back to like a spinning record. Could this hardship be their new interest to bond over?
Part of her wanted to ask her mom for advice, but that wasnât possible. This was Rachelâs secret, and she couldnât break her trust. No, she would have to think of a way to help her friend all on her own. Lenora decided to name her task âOperation: Save Our Friendship.â
 ***
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She lazed about in bed reading until her alarm went off at 6:30. Then she showered and went through her normal morning routines of getting ready. By 7:15 she was dressed and sitting at the table for breakfast. She wasnât a coffee drinker, but she found herself staring at the coffee pot with longing. Too bad such an action would have been suspiciously out of character.
She wasnât a good liar, so her plan was to not speak unless absolutely necessary. Then she wouldnât have to risk spilling Rachelâs secret. Letting go of her dreams of caffeine, Lenora focused on her homework. She was reading a collection of poems by Emily Dickinson, but her heart just wasnât in it. She really should have completed her required reading the night before, but Mr. Darcy had been too much of a temptation to resist.
Her parents were pretty laid back for the most part. However, they were adamant about family mealtimes. That meant breakfast and dinner. When her mom slid a cup in front of her, she couldnât help but wince a little. If there was PTSD for failed food experiments, she had it.
Mary Gates was a health nut. Because of this, her culinary creations were pretty hit or miss. This morningâs fare seemed to feature some sort of unnaturally blue smoothie. Given her motherâs vehement rejection of food additives and dyes, Lenora couldnât help but wonder how sheâd managed to achieve that particular hue.Â
One didnât get to use the word azure very often, but that was the only way Lenora could have possibly described the smoothie sitting before her. Her quirky brain briefly imagined telling her mother how Emily Dickinson would have described the drink.Â
Â
It lay limply, at the base,
Â
Swirling, whirling, and blended,
Â
Never flying, not again,
Â
Dead exotic blue butterfly . . .
Â
Lenora lost interest in her attempt at poetry and her thoughts reverted to prose instead.
Â
It looked as though the poor butterfly had thrown up and died in the blender, valiantly sacrificing its life for what was sure to be a very blah tasting breakfast.
Â
She was smart enough not to recite her poem or her prose aloud to her mom. She quickly dismissed the notion of jotting it down, even though she was fairly certain she might be able to get some extra credit from her efforts. She doubted anyone in her class would appreciate her bad poetry.
Lenora had learned to censor herself a long time ago. Saying what she thought did one of two things, and neither of them was good. Either she offended people so strongly that they got angry and cried, or worse, she got in trouble. Over the years sheâd learned that freedom of speech was overrated.
âWhat is this?â Lenora asked warily. Staring at the bright blue liquid, she hoped that she was wrong about the concoction containing a dead insect.
âJust drink it. Itâs a new protein powder I invented,â Mary ordered.
Being the daughter of a talented biochemist wasnât always glamorous, in fact it rarely was. Poor Lenora had been the subject of far too many of her motherâs culinary experiments. She considered refusing to drink it. Didnât the Constitution have something in it about freedom to eat?
In the end she acquiesced. Sheâd learned the hard way that her mother was even more strong-willed than she was. Besides, she wanted something from her parents. That meant she needed to play the dutiful and obedient daughter . . . at least until they said yes.
Lenora took a sip and was relieved when the concoction didnât taste horrible. It wasnât great, but it wasnât totally revolting either. She could detect bananas and surprisingly enough, sugar! Her mom never used sugar. This made Lenora wonder how awful the protein powder must have tasted for her mom to give in and add such an unhealthy ingredient.
She was interrupted from her train of thought when her father walked in the room and sat down at the table across from her.
âYou look exhausted, doodlebug. Up all night reading again?â Henry Gates asked.
âI know my rights. I believe Iâm innocent until proven guilty,â Lenora quipped.
âIâm pretty sure the last time I checked, this was a dictatorship not a democracy,â Henry said and then he leaned in to whisper into Lenoraâs ear. âWe both know that your mother is the one in charge. Iâd be careful if I were you.â
Lenora smiled warmly at her father. They had always had a special relationship. Sometimes it seemed like he was the only person that truly understood her. She loved her mother. But she seemed to have received an extra dose of her dadâs DNA, at least when it came to her personality.
âI heard that,â Mary said, not missing a beat. She poured Henry a glass of blue smoothie.
âDrink up or die,â Lenora joked.
Surprisingly, her father didnât join in with his booming laugh like usual. Instead, he just sat there staring at the contents of his smoothie. She could have sworn there was a small tear forming in the corner of her fatherâs eye. She was used to upsetting people with her comments, but not her father.
âSorry, Dad, I didnât mean . . .â
âWhat? No. Sorry doodlebug, that was hilarious. Iâm just feeling a little emotional because youâre right. I think your motherâs awful smoothie might actually kill me.â
As if on cue, Lenoraâs mother changed the subject. âYour father is right. You do look tired.â
âI blame Mr. Darcy. If Jane Austen hadnât made him so irresistible, Iâd get a lot more sleep.â
Henry jumped up out of his seat. He pulled his wife in close for a kiss, but not before uttering, âMiss Bennet.â
âOh, Mr. Darcy!â Mary squealed before she kissed him smack on the lips.
âSeriously! Please donât ruin Pride and Prejudice for me,â Lenora pleaded.Â
âDarling, Mr. Darcy is not the sort of man who can be owned by any one generation. He is timeless, and heâs far too much man for any one woman. Why, even your grandmother . . .â
âGross,â Lenora hurried to cut her mother off. âListen, Iâm thrilled that you are both still in love. But not all of us are so lucky.â She sighed dramatically.
âThere are plenty of cute boys at school,â Mary interjected.
âBut none of them are Darcy,â Lenora replied.
âIgnore your mother. I fully support you waiting for a fictional character to whisk you away. At least until youâre in your forties.â
âWhatever helps you sleep at night, Dad,â Lenora retorted.
âHurry, or youâre going to be late,â urged Mary.
Lenora held her nose and downed the rest of her smoothie. She shoved her poetry book into her bag and zipped it shut.
âOh, before I forget, can Rachel crash here this weekend?â
Henry glanced at Mary for a brief moment and then looked back at Lenora.
âIâm afraid that isnât going to work, doodlebug.â
âHuh?â Lenora was confused. Sheâd been expecting an easy yes. This wasnât exactly a big deal. Rachel slept over all the time.
âWe need your help at the lab this weekend. Remember?â asked Mary.
Lenora vaguely remembered them asking her a few days prior.
âSorry, I forgot all about that. But canât Rachel just come to the lab with us?â
âWe donât have time to talk about this right now,â her mom said dismissively.
Mary stood, rinsed out the blender, and wiped down the counters. She had an aura of âIâm-in-charge-so-donât-even-ask-meâ about her. Normally Lenora would have just let the issue drop, but her friend needed her, so she kept pushing.
âWe wonât bother you. I promise,â Lenora begged.
âKiddo, this weekend is really important for your mom and me. Youâll understand after you see what weâve been working on.â
Lenora couldnât believe they were making such a big issue out of such a simple request. In the heat of the moment, she forgot to take the time to censor her words, and she just let them tumble right out.
âI donât want to see! I donât care about your boring science project. You canât make me love your stupid experiments. Iâm almost an adult. I should get to do what I want on the weekends. Spoiler alert, itâs not sitting around polishing test tubes!â
When Lenora saw the shocked expression on her parentsâ faces, she knew sheâd screwed up big time. She knew better than to let her sarcastic inner monologue out, but sheâd failed to block it. She scrambled to think of an apology. But, ultimately, it didnât matter if she had the right words, because she was too mad to say them.
âWell, Miss Almost Adult, this actual adult owns the house and therefore gets to make the rules.â
âSweetheart,â Henry said softly, laying a hand on Maryâs arm.
Mary ignored her husband and continued to stare down her daughter. âPromise me that youâll come to the lab right after school.â
âWhatever! I promise,â Lenora muttered stubbornly and stomped her way out the door.
She didnât even look at her mom when she pressed a bagged lunch into her hands. She was so upset that she was afraid of crying, and she didnât want to give her parents the satisfaction of seeing how much theyâd upset her.
âI love you,â Mary called after her.
Lenora didnât respond. She wasnât about to return the sentiment. She was way too mad. What kind of a power trip were they on, telling her that she couldnât have Rachel over? Didnât they want her to have friends?
Lenora roughly shoved her lunch into her backpack and hurled it onto the rear seat. The fact that she was no doubt smashing her food was not lost on her. The way she was feeling she might just âloseâ her lunch altogether. Yes. That seemed like the perfect plan. Then she could charge a bunch of junk food to her parentsâ account. She smiled, envisioning how appalled her mother would be to see her chowing down on Doritos and Coke for lunch like everyone else on the planet.
Her fingernails clawed angrily into the steering wheel as she drove to school. She promised herself that when she and Mr. Darcy had children, she would never tell them no without explaining why. She would never expect them to blindly obey without reason like some second-class citizen. She would be an awesome mom, more like a friend than a dictator.
She was late, so she was lucky to find a parking space at all. Her crappy spot came complete with an extra-long walk to the entrance, which suited her just fine because she didnât want to be there anyway. The first bell rang before she made it to the exterior door. Lenora let out a sigh of relief. Rachel wasnât waiting for her at her locker. Sheâd bought herself a little more time.
âMission accomplished,â she whispered under her breath. She hurriedly stuffed her bag into her locker and grabbed her chemistry book.
CHAPTER TWO
âYouâre late,â Janice McNabby accused as Lenora hurried into science class.
âSorry, Mrs. McNabby.â
Too bad her first class had to be with Rachelâs mom. It was going to be incredibly hard to focus on anything but Rachelâs dilemma with her mother two feet away. Lenora was afraid to even make eye contact with Janice, lest her facial expressions give something away.
Janice McNabby had big blonde hair that took over an hour, as well as half a bottle of hairspray, to achieve. She applied her makeup with a heavy hand, as if daring the world to notice that she was in her fifties. It was easy to see where Rachel got her good looks from. Lenora had no doubt that her friend would also take extreme measures to hold onto her fading beauty decades from now.
Janice was a close friend of her parents, so the odds were good that Lenoraâs mom would know sheâd been late for school before the day was over. She was probably texting her right now under her desk. Lenora groaned softly. She hadnât even wanted to take this stupid class. Much to the disappointment of her genius parents, Lenora didnât care for science.
It wasnât that Lenora didnât understand the principles; thanks to the double dose of genetics from her parents she was actually quite astute. Understanding biology and chemistry was a breeze for her, but it was also boring. Instead of a toy kitchen set when she was younger, her parents had built her a play lab, complete with plastic beakers and a fake Bunsen burner. Sheâd tried to pretend to enjoy playing with it for their sakes.
But all their enthusiasm couldnât make up for the fact that what Lenora really loved was books, especially the classics. English was her favorite subject, even though literature went hand-in-hand with essay writing, which she abhorred. Why was the English language so inconsistent? There were just too many boring and conflicting grammar rules.Â
Someone kicked her chair, alerting her to the fact that Mrs. McNabby was glaring at her.
âAre you with us, Miss Gates?â
âUmmm . . . Iâm sorry, could you please repeat the question?â Lenora asked nervously.
There was no doubt about it, Janice was totally going to rat her out to her mother. From that point on, Lenora did her best to focus on school. One class was replaced by another, and the hours rushed by far too quickly. The bell rang and Lenora walked slowly back to her locker.
As sheâd predicted, Rachel was there waiting for her, lunch in hand. Lenora put away her books and stoically grabbed her food.
âLetâs eat outside,â Rachel suggested.
âOkay.â
Lenora trailed slowly behind Rachel. She felt like sheâd failed her friend already, and it was all her parentsâ fault. She had to come up with a way to help her, to be there in her hour of need. She was silently chanting, Operation: Save Our Friendship, as she walked.
âAre you sure youâre pregnant?â Lenora whispered the last word looking around to make sure no one was nearby.
âI took three tests!â Rachel replied emphatically.
âWell, Iâd say that pretty much settles it. How on earth did you have that much pee?â Rachel glared at her so Lenora returned to a more pertinent line of questioning. âWhoâs the father? Was it Tom?â
âIâm not some slut who sleeps with everyone,â Rachel hissed defensively.
âOf course, you arenât,â Lenora was quick to agree. A statistic maybe, but not a slut.
âBut itâs what you were thinking!â Rachel whined.
âHow long have you, I mean . . . I didnât even know that you two were . . . â Lenora fumbled about searching for the right words.
âHaving sex? Seriously! Canât you even say it? Not all of us are perfect virgins like you.â
Why did people always make the word virgin sound like an insult? Was it really that ridiculous that she was saving herself for someone special, someone that she had yet to meet? She took the high ground and ignored the virgin slam, because thatâs what best friends were supposed to do.
âDoes he know yet?â
âNo. But heâd just say to get rid of it because he wore a condom, so itâs not his fault.â
âWhat a jerk. Condoms are only ninety-eight percent effective.â
âTomâs definitely a jerk, but I donât think itâs his.â
âWhat? Who else could it be?â Lenora asked. It didnât seem fair that thereâd been such an overreaction to her asking who the father was now, especially when she was in fact sleeping around with multiple guys.
âI canât tell you,â Rachel replied evasively.
âWhy not?â
âBecause! I donât know what I want yet. Thatâs why I have to come to your house this weekend. I need time to figure everything out.â
âAbout that, my parents . . .â Lenora started to talk.
Rachel cut her off angrily. âYou told them, didnât you? You broke your promise! I canât believe I trusted you.â
âNo! I didnât tell them,â Lenora said defensively. Rachelâs accusations were like physical slaps. They hurt. Sheâd desperately wanted to hand the problem off to the grownups and be done with it. But sheâd promised to keep her mouth shut, and she always kept her word.
âSorry. Iâm sorry Iâm being so crazy! Of course, you kept your promise,â Rachel apologized.
âWhat I was trying to say is that they said you canât sleep over.â
âWhat? Why not?â
âThey wouldnât even tell me. They were just like âToday doesnât work. Weâre too busy. Important science stuff. Blah blah blah.â My mom was in full dictator mode.â
âNo! What am I going to do now?â
Lenora couldnât help but run through some options in her head. There were so many things she just couldnât say, like: give the kid up for adoption, drop out and work at Wendyâs, go back in time and keep your legs closed. Really, the list was infinite.
âThis whole situation sucks,â Lenora agreed.Â
âCould you come to my house instead?â Rachel asked.
âI donât know. My parents made me promise to come to the stupid lab after school,â Lenora said.
The bell rang again signaling the end of lunch, so Lenora and Rachel walked back inside. They had their next two classes together, and Rachel spent the whole time scheming. By the time theyâd changed out of their P.E. clothes, Rachel had convinced Lenora to go to the movies and spend the night.
Lenora didnât exactly have a long history of disobedience, but being a rebel felt kind of exhilarating. What was the worst they could do? Ground her? They should have just let Rachel come to the lab. Really, it was their fault for being mean.
Â
***
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âYou can just borrow my clothes,â Rachel whispered, as the lights dimmed in the theater.
Lenora murmured back, âOkay.â
She and Rachel were similar in the height department, although Rachel had been blessed with a much bigger bra size. Lenoraâs phone started buzzing before the previews had even finished. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and saw that it was her parents calling. Someone kicked her chair and she whispered, âSorry,â turned off her phone, and slid it back in her pocket.
She felt a little guilty for not answering, but then it was really their fault for putting her in this impossible situation. If theyâd just agreed to let Rachel spend the night, sheâd have been the dutiful daughter and gone to the lab like they wanted. Lenora reassured herself that her parents would forgive her, especially once she explained how she was trying to repair her one and only friendship.
Rachel insisted that they do a double feature, so it was dark by the time they left the theater. Lenora was thankful that going to the movies had coaxed Rachel back into a good mood. She was very fun to be around when she wasnât in drama mode.
âI wish aliens would come to earth. Then we wouldnât ever have to go back to school,â Rachel said, twirling dramatically. âAnd it totally wouldnât matter about me being pregnant anymore because the world would need my baby to help repopulate earth. Iâd be like a hero.â
âDid we just watch the same movie? Did you see all the despicable things they did to the humans?â Lenora asked incredulously.
âThe aliens wouldnât be mean to me. Iâm too pretty,â Rachel countered confidently.
Lenora looked up and saw Rachel vainly gazing at her reflection as they passed a set of glass doors. She shook her head but couldnât help laughing at Rachelâs ridiculous theory. This is it. This is why weâre friends, Lenora remembered. Yes, Rachel was the quintessential drama queen. But she was so much fun when she just relaxed and lived in the moment.
Lenora paused for a second when she saw that her shoelaces had come undone. She kneeled down to tie them, and thatâs when she saw him . . . the most gorgeous man sheâd ever seen.
His hair was raven black, and she loved the way his bangs fell across his eyes. He was tall, and there was an aura of mystery about him which was enhanced by his stylish black and white striped jacket.
In a daze, Lenora took a step forward and almost tripped. Sheâd read so many books, but sheâd always assumed that they were exaggerating the whole mesmerizing-attraction-thing. It was as if some invisible force was drawing her toward him. He might as well have been reeling her in like a fish on a line.
The mysterious stranger glanced over in her direction and their eyes caught. At that moment, Lenora thought sheâd happily drown in the depths of his rich blue eyes. She didnât realize she was walking towards him until Rachel tugged on her arm. Her friend might as well have dropped a bucket of ice water on her. She had effectively killed the moment.
âThe car is this way,â Rachel muttered before launching full speed back into her alien-baby-mama scenario.
Lenoraâs cheeks blazed fire engine red, and she abruptly turned her face away from the hot stranger. Fortunately, the fact that it was dark outside would help hide the tell-tale blush staining her cheeks. When she glanced back, he was gone, but she was too embarrassed to be truly disappointed. It wasnât like sheâd have known what to say to him anyway.
Rachel talked nonstop on the drive back to her house. They were both in Rachelâs car, because theyâd left Lenoraâs back at the school. When Lenora turned on her phone, she saw that her parents had tried to reach her several more times.
âI think I should call my parents back,â Lenora murmured, starting to feel the guilt setting in. She wasnât full-on ârepentance levelâ guilty, but she was willing to give lip service to the âsorry levelâ of guilty.
âBut theyâll totally make you go home!â Rachel whined.
âI know! But they called like a dozen times. It might be important.â
She pressed on her motherâs contact and the phone went straight to voicemail. She tried her dad and the same thing happened.
âThatâs odd, why would they both turn off their phones?â
âUh, Lenora?â Rachel interrupted.
âWhat?â Lenora asked. She glanced up from her phone and followed Rachelâs gaze. Janice McNabby was standing outside on the front porch of Rachelâs house talking with two police officers. Rachel threw the car in park and went into full-on meltdown mode.Â
âMy mom called the cops on me! Can she even do that? How did she even find out I was pregnant? Did she go through my trash?â panicked Rachel.
âYour mom didnât call the cops on you,â Lenora said.
Lenora opened the car door and climbed out. When Janice saw Lenora, she paled and whispered something to one of the officers. The officer turned, and when his eyes lit upon Lenora, he looked grim. Something was very wrong with the whole situation.
Part of her, the coward that resides deep inside everyone, wanted to turn and run. But curiosity proved to be the stronger force. She slowly shuffled over to where the adults were clustered on the porch.
âLenora, honey, what are you doing here?â Janice asked nervously.
âSheâs spending the night. Whatâs the big deal?â Rachel squeaked, as her nerves made her pitch much higher than usual.
âThereâs been an accident,â Janice began hesitantly. She turned a raised eyebrow to one of the officers, waiting until he nodded for her to continue. âLenora, there was some sort of explosion at your parentsâ lab.â
âWe have to go to the hospital!â Lenora gasped. She started to dash towards Rachelâs car, but a hand reached out to stop her.
âIâm so sorry, sweetheart,â sobbed Janice, struggling to speak through her tears. âThey didnât make it. The police said thereâs no way they could have survived an explosion of that magnitude.â
Lenora heard the words, but they didnât compute. Her parents were fine. They were at the lab. She needed to be at the lab. Sheâd promised to go there after school. If she could just go right now, everything would be fine.
Lenoraâs lungs were emptying and filling so quickly that she began to feel dizzy. The word âexplosionâ kept repeating in her head. Over and over, she replayed the giant explosion sequence from the alien movie sheâd just seen. Her mind raced. Lab. Explosion. Aliens. Dead.
Lenoraâs mind just couldnât accept that her parents were dead. Sheâd been right there with them laughing and telling jokes only that morning. Again, she couldnât get that scene from the movie out of her head. She saw the flying chunks of flesh that were meant to represent the exploded humans. No. That couldnât have happened to her parents.
As the truth began to set in, her panic continued to escalate. This forced her labored breathing into full blown hyperventilation. Her vision began to grow fuzzy along the edges. She was so out of it that she didnât even realize she was screaming at the top of her lungs. Soon enough the lack of oxygen won over and she lurched forward and passed out.