Things take a drastic turn, when Charlie Michaels decides that, despite her parents wishes, moving out is what she wants. Not just out of her Family home, but out of her hometown. Even when it's just been two weeks since her best friend was murdered.
As she starts to believe her best friend was hiding more secrets than she thought, she comes closer and closer to finding out who or maybe what killed her.


2. A Beacon In The Night

The drive to my new place is taking longer than expected.

Being alone with my thoughts was definetly something I have to get used to first.
I was never alone before Julie died. Ever. If my parents weren't around, she was. Any day of the week, any time.
I remember this one time when our parents decided to go on a cruise together for two weeks. Summer Holidays had just started and we were already pumped for Senior year.

We planned everyday to the Minute. We filled our weeks with Shopping, movie Marathons and way too much junk Food. On the last day of our two-week freddom, Julie met Carter. It was a Picture book romance. They were the cutest. He would bring her flowers every sunday and plan a movie night for all of us once a week. Usually Wednesdays, because he didn't have classes on Thursday. He was in his first year of college then. Drama Major. I had a bet running with my dad, that Carter would come out as gay by the end of his first Semester.


After I got the call that Julies body was found, Carter came rushing over, flowers in hand. He choked back tears as he told me how he was actually wanting to talk to Julie about something that night. Three guesses what that might've been.

He's now dating a third year college Student named Chad.


15 miles to go.

I feel my stomach turning. Being nervous is so unlike me.
Turning up the Radio is definetly not helping.


10 miles to go.

I take the Exit - Beacon Hills - and drive slower in order to not miss my street.


0 miles to go.

I look out the window to my right.



The weather is couple degrees colder than back home. I take a deep breath and look around the street. Not a Soul around. It's 7pm and the streetlights are shining dimly. I hear the wind moving through the trees behind me. I turn around to see a forest stretching out for miles. Dark, but peaceful looking.
Gripping my keys tightly, I walk toward the Apartment building and climb the stairs to the second floor, counting the down the numbers until I reach my door. Blue chipped paint covers the door and a big number '16' decorates the middle of it in faded Gold.

I take a deep breath, insert the key and turn it to the left.
After finding the light switch behind the door, I look around what is now my very own place. A wave of happiness flushes over me. I smile.
Julie would've loved this place: open kitchen to the right with a big fridge, large living room to the left with big Windows and two equally blue doors to the far end.
I walk back to the car and start unpacking. Turns out stacking boxes is not one of my strong suits and just as I reach the stairs I manage to drop not one, not two, but all three boxes I had just spent almost six minutes trying to take out the trunk in the first place.

Letting out a big sigh, I grab one box and decide to carry them each up individually. Why did I ever think I needed to keep every book I own ?!
"Want some help with that?"
Startled, I drop the box a second time.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you." The voice comes from the top of the stairs.
I place my hands on my hips, exhausting from the drive and the constant dropping of boxes.
"Sure, that would be great." I say as a tall, broad man descends the stairs, hands buried in the front pockets of his jeans.

"Moving in or out?" he asks looking from the car, to the top of the stairs and back.
"In. Number 16." Grabbing the third box as he carries the first two up the stairs.
Whoever this guy is, he doesn't look like carrying a bunch of heavy boxes and bags seem to be a big problem. And in the by the time the car is empty, I had not even carried half as much as he did, nor asked for his name.
Here goes the whole nervous thing again.

As he places the last box near the door and turns to leave, I summon up all my courage to ask him.
"I never got your name. I wouldn't know who to make the 'Thank you'- card out to."
I roll my eyes. That's not quite how I wanted that sentence to go, I think to myself.
Despite my ever so cheesy way of simply asking for his name, he chuckles.
"I'm Jordan." he walks across to the kitchen and extends his hand.
"Charlie." I blush, shaking his hand. His eyes linger on mine, just for a second, then he turns to leave.
"Instead of that card, how about a cup of coffee? Tastes much better." He suggests, standing in the doorway.
I smile. "Sure."
"There's a coffee shop right down the street. Noon okay?" He tucks his hands back into his front pockets.
"Perfect." I say maybe a bit too exaggerated.

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