Excerpt: Stuck On You & The Academy

It had been a lonely school year since she left for Ithaca when her grandmother became ill. And while I understood how close Andrada and her grandmother were, I wished she was here. Yeah, we would e-mail and IM each other, but it wasn't the same.
I still remembered how we met to this day.
It was day one of first grade. It wasn't the sunny first day most hoped for and/or expected...to tell the truth, it was downright dreadful.
Mom and Dad had sent me to school with a new pink umbrella to ward off the rain, but Andrada left her had home and only had her backpack as a cover.
Remembering the "sharing is caring" philosophy from kindergarten and Barney & Friends, I offered her my umbrella. And after the happiest "thank you" I think I have ever heard, came the question "want to be friends?"
And that's how we went.
That's how it always goes in your early years of school.
You don't have to worry about looking pretty or being in. All you have to do is be friendly.

That's how I, and we, met Shamus. He was getting picked on by a couple of kids from fourth grade (one grade ahead of us at the time) because of his glasses, and Andrada and I put a stop to it.
Andrada all but cussed one of them out in Romanian (her native tongue), and I punched the other so hard he started bleeding from his nose. Shamus was so grateful he squeezed the both of us in a hug, and then the fateful question..."want to be friends?"
And from the day we learned about the European Union in sixth grade, we all got called the "E.U. of Parkside," since Andrada was Romanian, Shamus was Irish (and I mean Irish Irish) and I was of Scottish descent (although most assumed I was Irish too, because of my hair).
Fun times.
But those days were no more now, what with Andrada in Ithaca and Shamus only being in my AP English class (because he's apparently an über nerd). Now my school day consists of giving the finger to Mona and her fake friends.
Not so fun...but fun enough.
And then, before I could think anymore, I fell fast asleep.

---

It seemed to be a normal day for the sixteen year old French girl the world knew as Sebelle Marcioux. A typical day for her consisted of eating breakfast with her parents, and then taking a stroll to school; or just a walk in the summer, taking in the sights of her city, her Paris.
It was a balmly morning in July when Sebelle left her house after saying goodbye to her mother and father, thanking her mom for the breakfast of a ham and cheese omelette and toast.
But it wasn't as normal of a day as Sebelle had hoped.
Before she knew it, she had been whisked away by two business looking characters in a white van. She didn't even have a chance to scream when the doors shut and the van sped away.

The same went for Cheyenne, Wyoming native Justin Dangerfield. He would get up at four, partially out of habit, and tend to the cattle on the Dangerfield family farm.
After he had finished feeding his house Smoky, and then giving the cattle their feed; a van pulled into the drive and pulled him in, kicking and screaming all along the way.

"Où sont je?" Sebelle asked. The men who had kidnapped her put a blind fold around her eyes, commanding her to not move or speak. During that time, she felt someone or something throw her, but she didn't know where or why.
"Kiddo, I have no clue what you just said," a masculine voice replied. Sebelle looked in the direction it came from, forgetting she couldn't see.
"Do you know where I am?" she questioned.
"I don't know where I am, so I can't tell you."
"Great..." Through the blind fold, she could see a small beam of light.
"Oh, you're blind folded," the man said, reaching over and untying it. As soon as he did, Sebelle could see him. He was strong looking, and a cowboy. A literal one. He had tussled black hair that popped out from under a cream coloured stetson, and the brightest blue eyes that she had ever seen. "That's better." He flashed her a smile.