HULLO, READERS AND ALL,

HERE IS A TEASER FROM REDEEMING GRAYSON, JUST A REMINDER, THE FIRST TEN CHAPTERS WILL COME OUT IN MARCH 2014. ;) FEEDBACK, PLEASE.

SERENA

GRAYSON

June Jameson always annoyed the hell out of me. She sat next to me at the back of the room each day in English class and chewed her bubblegum so noisily I was sure that even near deaf Mr. Breckins could hear her on the other side of the hall. Each day, she came into the classroom, flipping her dark blonde hair over her shoulder and giggling vapidly at something her friend said.

She babbled the whole time and was the depiction of one of the blond clichés who hooked up with different guys every period.

Also, she always found an excuse to touch me in some way. Whether it was brushing my shoulder when I walked past her or touching my arm when I passed her the papers. Her laugh was worse than nails on a chalkboard, screeching and abrasive. I always shuddered every time she was near me, praying that she wouldn’t reach out to stroke my arm or something. 

February 15th, 2007 was a normal day. The teachers were normal, the students were normal and the school was normal. It was slightly windy with a touch of cold. There was slippery ice on the sidewalks and pedestrians tended to fall once or twice. But it was normal.

In the early morning, June took her life in the girls’ bathroom on the second floor.  

Callie Simpson burst into the room about 10 minutes into the lesson, crying hysterically. I remember everyone looking around with confused expressions and Mr. Tyler standing up to comfort her. She couldn’t say much, blubbering through blurred eyes and garbled speaking.

I remember Mr. Tyler’s tan face turning whiter than a sheet of paper and the horror in his eyes, his hands shaking as he ran out of the room. I remember him coming back in three minutes later, his face full of shock. I remember as clear as day when he said in a trembling voice, “June Jameson is dead.”

Everyone in the classroom was in a state of shock. It wasn’t long before whispers and murmurs began to grow louder and louder and people began asking questions. Some began crying and others looked nonplussed and had no idea what was going on. I wished I were in their position. Mr. Tyler had gathered us all together but his eyes still brewed with sadness and horror and his lips were set in a tight line.

Some people wanted to go see her and others just wanted to go home. It felt almost surreal, I guess, because a person that you saw, met and got to know was gone and you would never see them again. You realize that you could’ve done something to stop it all. Then the guilt comes in and it starts weighing on you, pressing you against the ground, crushing you so hard that you can't breathe.