Dark One: One for Sorrow... (The Khiara Banning Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Sydnie Beaupré
don’t really think that he does; he looks a little older, college or even university age but you can never be so sure these days. His nametag tells me his name is Cael. I assume it’s pronounced like the vegetable, kale.
He shakes his head. “No, I don’t go to school. I’ve never gone to school in my life, to be honest.” He’s got a slight Irish accent that makes the sides of my lips turn up, ever so slightly into a smile. They’re after my lucky charms, and all that. But still, never gone to school? What a strange thing. Maybe he was home schooled. He looks to be about nineteen years old, give or take.
“Were you home schooled?” I ask.
“Kind of. History and current affairs were always my least favourite subjects to learn about. Until recently that is. Now both are very important to me.” He replies quite fervently.
“Okay…” I say, dragging out the a, unsure of how to reply.
He blushes and ducks his head, “Yeah, sorry I sounded strange there, I realize. It’s just, I really enjoy those subjects.” His voice goes up at the end like a question, and I get the distinct impression that he’s trying to cover something up.
I mentally smack myself for sounding like such an ass, though; he’s probably really shy. “Hey, I mean, I kind of get it. I love English, a lot. I’m Khiara Banning by the way, Cara’s my best friend.” I extend my hand towards him.
He shakes my hand, his grip strong and his hand warm. “Cael.” I was right about the pronunciation. Point to team Khiara!
“So, how do you know Cara?” I ask, smiling at him.
“I don’t,” he says, “I came here with a friend, but she seems to have left me to my own devices.”
I frown, “Ugh, I know the feeling of being ditched at a party you totally don’t want to be at. I actually didn’t really want to come tonight, but hey, if I didn’t come we wouldn’t be talking to each other right?”
He nods his head, “Aye.”
Strange as he may be, I feel a pull towards him that I’ve never felt with anybody else. I feel safe with him and I’ve only known the guy for like, ten minutes. I admit that this feels almost sparkly vampire-esque, but I’m ignoring that in favour of the real world. I decide that after looking him over, he could be dangerous; I very much get that vibe from him.
Though he’s wearing a baggy shirt, judging by the toned muscles of his arms I’d say he’s probably rather strong- but I don’t at all feel threatened by him.
He’s different, and I like different.
All of a sudden, the lights go out, interrupting the moment. We’re still holding hands, and I’m not letting go. It’s way too dark and I’m not comfortable with that at all. And okay, I kind of admit, I like the feel of his hand in mine and I don’t want to have to think about what that means.
In second grade, I was just getting over my fear of the dark when it was reinforced all the more by the fact that I was kidnapped. I can’t remember the details of how it happened or what led up to it, but I remember waking up, being engulfed by darkness and being tied to a chair, crying and crying until finally the police came for me. They said it was just some kids from out of town looking to cause trouble, but for a while my parents were hyper vigilant about keeping me safe.
“I’ve got a problem with the dark…” I say very quietly.
“So do I,” he squeezes my hand, but I have a feeling he doesn’t mean it the same as I do. “I think you should go inside now.”
“Can you come?” I ask, not wanting to go by myself.
“No. I think it’s better if I stay here.” He says. And then, almost to himself he says, “It’s safer that way.”
This confuses me. “What do you mean it would be safer?” I ask letting go of his hand.
He smiles a sad smile that makes my heart break for him without knowing why. “I’m not even supposed to be talking to you.”
“What do you mean?”
He just shakes his head. I guess it’s because
He shakes his head. “No, I don’t go to school. I’ve never gone to school in my life, to be honest.” He’s got a slight Irish accent that makes the sides of my lips turn up, ever so slightly into a smile. They’re after my lucky charms, and all that. But still, never gone to school? What a strange thing. Maybe he was home schooled. He looks to be about nineteen years old, give or take.
“Were you home schooled?” I ask.
“Kind of. History and current affairs were always my least favourite subjects to learn about. Until recently that is. Now both are very important to me.” He replies quite fervently.
“Okay…” I say, dragging out the a, unsure of how to reply.
He blushes and ducks his head, “Yeah, sorry I sounded strange there, I realize. It’s just, I really enjoy those subjects.” His voice goes up at the end like a question, and I get the distinct impression that he’s trying to cover something up.
I mentally smack myself for sounding like such an ass, though; he’s probably really shy. “Hey, I mean, I kind of get it. I love English, a lot. I’m Khiara Banning by the way, Cara’s my best friend.” I extend my hand towards him.
He shakes my hand, his grip strong and his hand warm. “Cael.” I was right about the pronunciation. Point to team Khiara!
“So, how do you know Cara?” I ask, smiling at him.
“I don’t,” he says, “I came here with a friend, but she seems to have left me to my own devices.”
I frown, “Ugh, I know the feeling of being ditched at a party you totally don’t want to be at. I actually didn’t really want to come tonight, but hey, if I didn’t come we wouldn’t be talking to each other right?”
He nods his head, “Aye.”
Strange as he may be, I feel a pull towards him that I’ve never felt with anybody else. I feel safe with him and I’ve only known the guy for like, ten minutes. I admit that this feels almost sparkly vampire-esque, but I’m ignoring that in favour of the real world. I decide that after looking him over, he could be dangerous; I very much get that vibe from him.
Though he’s wearing a baggy shirt, judging by the toned muscles of his arms I’d say he’s probably rather strong- but I don’t at all feel threatened by him.
He’s different, and I like different.
All of a sudden, the lights go out, interrupting the moment. We’re still holding hands, and I’m not letting go. It’s way too dark and I’m not comfortable with that at all. And okay, I kind of admit, I like the feel of his hand in mine and I don’t want to have to think about what that means.
In second grade, I was just getting over my fear of the dark when it was reinforced all the more by the fact that I was kidnapped. I can’t remember the details of how it happened or what led up to it, but I remember waking up, being engulfed by darkness and being tied to a chair, crying and crying until finally the police came for me. They said it was just some kids from out of town looking to cause trouble, but for a while my parents were hyper vigilant about keeping me safe.
“I’ve got a problem with the dark…” I say very quietly.
“So do I,” he squeezes my hand, but I have a feeling he doesn’t mean it the same as I do. “I think you should go inside now.”
“Can you come?” I ask, not wanting to go by myself.
“No. I think it’s better if I stay here.” He says. And then, almost to himself he says, “It’s safer that way.”
This confuses me. “What do you mean it would be safer?” I ask letting go of his hand.
He smiles a sad smile that makes my heart break for him without knowing why. “I’m not even supposed to be talking to you.”
“What do you mean?”
He just shakes his head. I guess it’s because