He shifts his attention back to me as I hold the book out to him. He drops the worried, anxious if you will, expression and takes the book; he doesn’t hesitate to shove it in his backpack. I didn’t notice the backpack until he did so. As he walks away,...

He stares at me, and then the book, back at me, and back at the book again. This process repeats for a few moments. His mouth is wide open. He has braces; the bands are light, almost rose, pink. He looks me dead in the eye, and with a surprised, nervou...

His skin tone isn’t fair, but it isn’t very dark, and he has freckles all over his face. He’s not very tall. He’s probably around five centimetres shorter than me, and I’m only 172cm. He wears off-white, high top, converse, black joggers, and an oversi...

The first thing you notice when you look at him has to be his jade green eyes. Not quite grey, but not completely green either. His hair is black. I’d love to elaborate, but there really isn’t much else to say. It’s as black as the ocean in the dead of...

It looks like something out of a painting. The ocean looks like satin. It’s currents moving like the dancers in Swan Lake, and finally rolling into the shore in waves. I look back at the book, and then at the boy who dropped it. I recognise hi...

From the horizon it’s such a light blue that it nearly seems white. Resembling an early morning frost. From there it fades into a Celestine hue, and that only changes higher up, where the sky takes on a deeper, sapphire-like, shade.

It’s the middle of June. The sky is miraculously clear, it’s around 26 degrees, and a light breeze sweeps my fringe, red in colour, across my forehead. I glance back at the ocean to see a lovely array of shades spread across the sky.

Prologue I’m not a nosy person. I’m really not. But as I quickly look at the book in my hands, I can’t help but see the four, blatant, words, carefully written across the page. Four words that I knew I wasn’t supposed to see. ...