Chapter 1

"Mind if I sit down?"

I looked up from my book, squinting against the glare of the setting sun. "If you like," I said, making space on the bench while returning to my book. We sat quietly for a minute or two, until I closed the book and tucked it into my bag. I turned to see the girl's eyes on me, a mix of curiosity and assessment on her face. She looked vaguely familiar, though I couldn't place her. Shoulder-length wavy auburn hair, grayish-green eyes, and a light complexion with a hint of freckles. Strikingly beautiful, but not my type.

"You're Alex, right?"

Fighting down a snappy remark, I nodded and waited for her to continue. She extended her hand as she said, "I'm Anya."

I shook the proffered hand. "Nice to meet you," I said, as I rose to go. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."

She got up with me. "Going to dinner?"

Again, I fought down a snappy remark. "Yes, but I'm dropping off my stuff first."

"At your room in Pellis?"

That stopped me for a second. As I stood there, puzzled, something finally clicked in the back of my mind. "You live two doors down the hall from me, with Jenna."

"Glad to see you haven't completely forgotten me. So, would you like to have dinner with us? Us being Jenna, me, Natalie, and Cara."

"Thanks, but I prefer eating alone."

"Like you've done for the last two weeks? Come on--isn't high school all about new experiences?"

"You're not going to let up until I agree, are you?"

"Nope." She smiled sunnily.

God, I'm a pushover. "In that case, as milady commands," I replied, sweeping into a deep bow. She giggled, and tugged on my arm as she broke into a trot. "Let's go; we're going to be late!" Oh well; it won't kill me to be social once in a while.

I never did introduce myself, did I? Let me fix that. I'm Alex Chen, and I'm thirteen years old. My parents, for reasons known only to themselves, decided to ship me off to a prep school in New Hampshire for high school. Apparently, a school with seventy percent of its graduates heading off to top-25 universities (the school I would have attended back home) wasn't good enough for me, d'aprés the parentals. So here I am, stuck three thousand miles away from home, cursing bitterly at my life and the weather. Especially the weather. Contrary to popular belief, southern California does have seasons. However, the seasonal changes tend to be rather subtle. Up here, it's not even October yet, and I'm already breaking out my 'winter' stuff at night. Nothing subtle about temperatures in the fifties and a biting wind.

We were right on the border of Vermont and New Hampshire, since the school was affiliated with Dartmouth. From what I could tell, some of their professors actually taught here from time to time, and select upperclassmen could take courses there as well. The workload was tough, but nothing I couldn't handle (yet, that is). I had a fair amount of time to spend on the tennis courts (I get by, though I'm probably not good enough for college ball, let alone the Tour). On warm days, I even read outside for an hour or two. Which was where Anya found me.

For the most part, my fellow classmates were a convivial and fun-loving bunch, considering what brainiacs we all were. There were a few bookworms whom never came out their rooms except for classes and meals (and ate in their rooms, more often than not), but they were the exception rather than the rule. It was the first time that most of us were spending any extended time away from our parents, and all its attendant rules and regulations.