Another Teaser

I know, I know, I promised I wouldn't spam you guys with these all month. But I can't resist! Plus, this is easier than trying to think of a blog post while my brain is fried from a weekend of NaNoing (seriously, I sat down in front of the computer at work today and turned it on, and then stared for like 3 minutes before I realized I had to boot up my email program for it to, you know, boot up. Sigh). Also, I think I may have caught the dread office flu. Dun dun dunnn...

This is from page 23 of Tears in the Ash, as the main character, Melika, is helping the search crews on Mt. Rainier look for Hope, who's gone missing:

I close my eyes and see that day. Funnily enough, we were on this same slope. Eighth grade class field trip to Wonderland Trail, over near the Paradise campgrounds. The whole class trooped along behind the guide, listening to her explain the various plants we were passing. Hope and I were at the back of the line. She took my hand, smiled and pulled me off the path, into the trees. The sun made her straight, glossy black hair shine, and when she squinted at me through those almond eyes, my only thought was how beautiful she was.

Hope was one of the few kids at school more foreign than me – whereas I was straight off the Hawaiian cruise liner, she was straight off the Beijing-Seattle direct flight. But in that forest, silhouetted in pine trees and highlighted in glimpses of cloud-streaked blue sky, she belonged. We both did. For an instant, that wild land belonged to us.

We didn’t speak. Not a word. She moved closer, and so did I. Her hand brushed mine, I curled my fingers between hers.

Back on the trail, someone shouted her name. “Hope?” The same syllable that echoes through the woods tonight.

I shut my eyes, and her lips brushed mine. My heart tried its best to beat through my ribcage. I didn’t know I liked girls too. Not yet. All I knew was that I liked her smile, and her mouth was soft on mine. I kissed her then, our bodies hovering almost a foot apart, so only our lips bridged the gap between us.

When we broke apart, we were both smiling. It’s important to me, now, to remember that the smiles came first.

But as we gazed into one another’s eyes – as another shout followed the first, this time calling my name – she shifted. Her eyes cooled first. Then the smile dripped from her lips, wax sinking from a candle. Before I could react, she was glaring at me.

“Don’t tell anyone,” she hissed. “Not a soul.” She extended her pinkie, hands shaking.

I hooked my finger around hers, too afraid to do anything else. “I swear.”

She squeezed once. “Good.”

That was the last word Hope Li ever said to me.