Chapter 1
FOURTEEN YEARS AGO
The moon shines brightly over the lake as I climb up the old sycamore tree off the side of the property.
It seems silly to still be hanging out in a tree house when I’m turning sixteen in nearly ten minutes. But, it’s become a force of habit, it’s a place of comfort in a place rife with discomfort.
This is the one place I don’t feel like I’m under a watchful eye from Mr. Mander or the staff he keeps housed on the five-hundred-acre estate.
Don’t get me wrong, Mander’s Academy for the Highly Gifted and Unhoused—pretentious fucking name—isn’t the worst place to call home. I know it could be far worse. At least, I can gather it would be worse from the books I’ve read and the television shows we’re allowed to watch. Harrowing tales of children being taken by a nefarious villain, or being discarded completely by the people who are supposed to love them. I guess that second one still rings kind of true in the grand scheme of my life.
At least at Mander’s I have three square meals a day and I don’t live in fear of not being accepted. Since a young age I’ve been told I’m different, all that wind up at Mander’s are distinct.The outside world is a hard, unforgiving place, one in which none of us will ever be accepted.
It’s easy to believe as things can get a little strange around here. Though, most of the oddities are ignored.
When someone does something beyond what is considered normal, everyone just turns the other way. At least I don’t have to pretend to be anyone other than myself when I’m here. Not that I know who I am, orwhat. Lately it’s felt like there’s something more to this school, more to my identity and the other students I’m surrounded by.
I turn the lamp on and open my biology textbook as I wait for Silas to arrive. We’re currently covering genetics, which makes me roll my eyes. None of the students here know anything about their genetics. The students of the obscure academy are quite the mystery.
There are those of us who have irregular things happening to us, like myself. Or those who are physically way larger than an average teenager.
Speaking of averagely large teenagers, Silas startles me while hefting his large frame into the entrance and shoving his body into the treehouse. The moon shines behind him, and I have to hide a smile behind my textbook.
My best friend is handsome, especially with the silvery light glowing against his masculine features.
“We need a new meeting spot,” he complains as his messy brown hair reaches the ceiling of the treehouse.
“You’re the one who needed a tutor,” I reply.
We both know he doesn’t need a tutor, but neither of us says anything. Silas is the brightest spot for me here, and I love spending time with him. Okay, I more than enjoy spending time with him. I have a ridiculous crush on him, but I don’t know if he feels the same. Plus, the last thing I want to do is ruin ourfriendship. It’s not like we go to one of those schools on TV with tons of kids, there are only about twenty of us at Mander’s.
He’s my friend, my best friend, and I don’t want to make things weird.
“We don’t need to study tonight,” he says softly, shaking back his hair, his brown eyes meeting mine. He’s already over six feet tall and is sporting light facial hair that he hasn’t quite learned to shave properly. He looks well beyond his sixteen years, and I wonder how much bigger he will get.
I tap my pen against my chin. “I thought you needed to study for the quiz tomorrow?”
A light blush creeps around his neck as he shakes his head and takes his backpack off and pulls out a small plastic container and removes the lid.
He looks shy, which is cute with how much room he takes up in the treehouse. It’s part of why I like Silas so much. While he may be large and intimidating, deep down, he’s the biggest sweetheart I’ve ever met.
“I know it’s not much, but I made them myself. Jonas helped me,” he says.
I look down into the container, seeing bright pink frosting, and smile.
“You made me cupcakes?”
“Almost forgot,” he replies, grabbing a candle out of his bag and placing it in the sweet frosting before lighting it on fire. “You have to make a wish,” he says.
“It’s not my birthday, yet,” I reply, looking down at my ancient watch, noting I have two more minutes. “And I don’t know what to wish for.”
I mean it honestly, I’ve given up on the dream of finding my family. Most of the ‘graduates’ wind up just staying here and working for Mr. Mander, anyway. Silas and I have plans to bust the hell out of here when we’re eighteen, even if the thought isterrifying. But staying sequestered on this campus doesn’t seem like a life worth living.
“What about a pact?” he suggests.
“What do you mean?”
His cheeks are nearly pink and it almost makes me want to tease him more, but I hold back. He’s being sweet, and I’m starting to realize that Silas is, in fact, more than my best friend. Perhaps this isn’t as unrequited as I thought.
