Wilders- The Complete Trilogy Read online
Wilders
The Complete Trilogy
Cass Kim
Copyright © 2019 by Cass Kim
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents, are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, actual events, or locales is purely coincidental.
Cover design by Fay Lane
Produced in the United States of America
Contents
Volume 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
The End
Volume 2
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Volume 3
1. Renna
2. Alyssa
3. Renna
4. Alyssa
5. Renna
6. Alyssa
7. Renna
8. Renna
9. Alyssa
10. Renna
11. Alyssa
12. Renna
13. Alyssa
14. Renna
15. Alyssa
16. Renna
17. Alyssa
18. Renna
19. Alyssa
20. Renna
21. Alyssa
22. Renna
23. Alyssa
24. Renna
25. Alyssa
26. Renna
27. Alyssa
28. Renna
29. Alyssa
30. Renna
31. Alyssa
32. Renna
33. Alyssa
34. Renna
35. Alyssa
36. Renna
37. Alyssa
38. Renna
39. Renna
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Volume One
The Change
Chapter One
“Excuse me, but can you please give me your seat?” Holly picked her eyes up off her phone screen to see a very pregnant woman standing next to her on the subway. She looked around, noticing for the first time how crowded the dirty train car had become.
“Oh, crap. Sorry,” She mumbled. Holly scrambled to shove her phone into her shoulder bag then slung her backpack onto the opposite shoulder. Squeezing around the protruding belly, she rolled her little travel bag carefully around the woman’s toes. Caging the roller between her feet, she reached out to grab the nearest pole.
How long had she been on this train? Smothering a yawn, Holly glanced at the digital stop display on the ceiling of the car. She only had three stops left before she was in her aunt’s neighborhood in the northern part of Chicago. Getting up to catch a train at five in the morning and then hauling a week’s worth of clothing, hair products, and make-up onto the subway was not how she wanted to spend her Saturday. She was almost eighteen, and there was no reason for her parents to ship her off to her aunt Miranda just because they’d be gone for a week. She’d most likely be going to college in Michigan in just a few months. What would they do then? Hire a babysitter?
Arching her back against the weight of her backpack, Holly let out a sigh. Deep down she knew it was kind of her own fault. She had thrown a party last year when they’d gone on their annual spring vacation to Florida. It probably hadn’t helped that her mom had snooped last week and found a note from Joanie about this year’s party plan. There was also the fact that, a few weeks ago, she’d wrecked her car backing into that pole at the grocery store. While texting. Oops.
Her phone chirped in her bag, forcing her to release the pole to dig around for it. Its battery was running low after playing games for the past hour. There was no chance of getting her charger into one of the limited wall outlets on the train now that it was so full.
How was the early morning?
Holly could just picture her best friend, Joanie, still in bed and already texting her to gloat about it.
Fine. This train ride is so long. How was the soccer game?
Joanie’s boyfriend, Chuck, was one of the better players on the school’s team. Joanie never missed a game. Even before Joanie had started dating Chuck, the girls had gone to the games every week. Holly just could not deal with how crazy Joanie got at the games now, so she made excuses to miss a few when she could.
We won, as usual. Chuck scored the winning goal, followed by a kissing emoji face and, He is so hot.
Holly sighed, about to tuck her phone back into her purse when another text rolled across the screen.
It’s soooOOOoooOo comfortable and cozy in my bed right now. Joanie’d sent a smirking emoji face with the text. Brat.
Before she could reply, the train came screeching to a halt at the next stop, and Holly crashed sideways into the business man standing next to her, knocking her rolling bag over as she stumbled.
“Watch it, kid!” The man snarled at her, shoving her off and away from him.
“Sheesh, I didn’t do it on purpose. Sorry.” Holly muttered as she tucked her phone back into her bag, then snagged her little roller and put it back in its spot between her feet. She carefully wrapped a hand around the pole.
“Maybe if you kids stayed off your phones more. I saw you on that thing nonstop for the last twenty minutes. Get a life.” The man was talking too loud, and people were starting to stare.
Of course, not one person came to her defense.
Holly raised her eyebrows biting her tongue against a snarky response about how he was probably jealous because he couldn’t even figure out how to use the newer phones. The last thing she wanted was to escalate this jerk’s lecture with everybody watching her. This was exactly why her parents had moved them out of the city years ago. Her mom hated the constant brushing and touching and the rudeness of other people. Holly barely remembered living in the city now. It seemed like it was constantly changing.
Annoyed, she stared over the heads of the seated passengers to look out the window. She was hoping the heavy clouds held their rain in long enough for her to get to Aunt Miranda’s posh little townhome. Dragging all her stuff through the rain was so not going to happen.
Hunching her shoulders, Holly resolutely ignored the ongoing text alerts chirping from her bag as the older man continued to grumble about “today’s youth” under his breath. Was it just her embarrassment, or was this guy giving off a lot of heat? With how red his cheeks were, she was half afraid he’d have a heart attack right there. Well, she wasn’t going to be the one putting her lips on his to breathe life back into him. Let one of the jerks staring and judging her do it. Adults could be such pricks.
Thankfully, the man shoved his way off the train at the next stop. Unfortunately, it seemed like three more passengers took his space.
Looking around the crowded car, she saw a few things she’d never see i
n the small town of Harvard, Illinois. There was a girl with blue hair, both arms covered in full tattoo sleeves. She also had a thick nose ring, pierced right through the middle. Holly thought the nose ring was a little much, but when she went to college, she was definitely going to get one of those sparkling little studs put in her left nostril. Those were cute.
On the floor sat a guy wearing a coat that was stained and dirty, his beard scraggly, fingertips dark with nicotine stains. He was dripping sweat despite the cold morning. Based on the amount of space people were giving him in the too-crowded car, he must have smelled pretty rank.
The pregnant lady who’d taken her seat was rubbing her belly through her coat and reading a mathematics textbook. Calculus. Gross. Holly hated math almost as much as she sucked at it. Math and geography. The joke at home was always that if you wanted to go somewhere, go the opposite of how Holly said to and you’d have better luck. Actually, just use Google Maps.
At the next stop, a lot of the crowd emptied out. It was near the university, so out went the pregnant chick, the tattooed chick, and some handsome dude with satiny dark skin and a nice smile. A couple of guys with beanies on and giving off the skunky smell of weed took the bench Holly had been hoping to reclaim. Rolling her eyes, Holly pulled her phone back out.
HelloOOoo Holl!? There was a string of texts from Joanie, most of them stupid kissy face emoji’s or the cute cat face with heart eyes.
Holly snorted, unable to help herself. Joanie was a mess of a texter. Some people just did not realize you could put it all in one line, in one text.
One stop left! Some gross old guy yelled at me for texting. For kicks Holly thumbed through the emoji’s, sending the most random ones she could find. A penguin, a camel, an eggplant, and a stop sign. Then three smiling cat faces, because why not?
Ew! Do NOT use the eggplant unless you mean penis. Which was then followed by: Chuck and I use it to sext, Holl!
Holly felt her face flush, hoping nobody was looking over her shoulder.
Yeah, okay. Better than real nude pics. Holly’s fingers felt awkward just typing that in public.
In true best friend fashion, the next text jumped right on ahead: What’s Aunt Mir making for din-din?
Joanie had met Miranda once when she’d made the trip out of the city to visit their new home in Harvard. A professional chef in Chicago, Miranda had made the best frittatas and breakfast potatoes of the girls’ lives after their “girls only” sleepover. They’d been thirteen then, just a few months after the move. Joanie still moaned about wanting another frittata like that at least twice a year.
Not sure, Holly typed. I think she’s working most of the week.
Boo. Followed by three ghost emojis and a crying face.
Holly rubbed her face. She could not handle any more emoji conversations. She and Joanie had become fast friends when she’d moved to their town, since Joanie had moved there only a few weeks before her. It wasn’t easy trying to make friends in a small town as a tween, all gangly limbs and awkward body changes.
She wasn’t sure how long their friendship would last when they both got to college. Part of her was hoping it would be able to evolve and change as they grew up. Right now was just a rough patch, with Holly the third wheel more than she’d like to be.
Hey, I gotta go. Gotta save my battery for the walk. Text ya later! And because she knew it was Joanie’s language, she added a string of multi-colored heart emojis.
She finished typing just in time to grab the hand hold again before the train ground to a stop. She kept her feet planted firmly, maintaining her balance. Finally! She pulled her coat closed with one hand and gripped her bag with the other.
Stepping out into the station, Holly scurried off to the side of the bustling crowds, attempting to avoid getting her bag knocked around by the people rushing to catch the car before the doors closed. Once her back was the a wall, she tucked her bag between her feet again and snagged her phone. Tapping it to life, she started to bring up the text with Aunt Miranda’s address and her directions. Before she got to the text from her aunt, she saw one from her mom.
We’re on the plane, about to take off. Be good for your Aunt. Do not be mouthy. We love you a lot! Holly’s upper lip curled up into a snarl of annoyance. Why did her mom always have to treat her like such a child?
She stabbed her thumbs into the phone as she typed her response. Whatever.
Ugh. Shaking her head, she scrolled down to the text from her aunt Miranda and copied the address into her maps app. Thank God she was getting away from her parents for the week. She needed a break.
Chapter Two
“Holly! You made it. Oh my gosh, look at how you’ve grown!” Aunt Miranda pulled her out of the chill air and into a cushiony hug. Holly breathed deeply, taking comfort in the homey scents of coffee and vanilla.
“Aunty Mir! I missed you!” She tucked her head into her aunt’s ample shoulder and held her tight for a moment. This. This was the only thing she really remembered from living in the city as a child. Miranda had been working her way through culinary school in the evenings, and she’d always be right there waiting for Holly after school, usually with warm hugs and a freshly made snack.
With a final snuggle and big, smacking kiss on the top of her head, Miranda set her free and grabbed her bag. “Alright, kid, give me your coat and backpack. No more dragging these around. Let’s head to the kitchen and we’ll get you a nice cup of espresso and steamed milk.”
Holly sighed with relief, “Don’t you mean a latte?” Now that she was here, she didn’t care anymore about staying home and going to the parties that week. It would just be the same idiot boys and the same smart girls acting like nitwits to impress the boys anyhow. She could always play that game again when she got home. With senior year drawing to a close, there were festivities planned every weekend. She hadn’t seen her aunt in, gosh, at least a year now.
“Yeah, but now that I’m expanding the menu to include pastries, I’ve really upped my coffee art game. You’re going to love it.” Miranda’s smile plumped her rosy cheeks as she herded Holly out of the entryway and down the gleaming hall tiles to the kitchen. She’d purchased this townhome about a year before Holly’s family moved out of the city. The only thing Holly really remembered about it was that it was always cluttered with dirty dishes and half-started projects. Usually there were cookbooks stacked across the counters, some of them open with the pages stained.
“It’s so clean in here,” Holly’s voice was awed as she swiped a finger along a shelf and it came away dust-free.
“Yes!” Miranda laughed at her stunned expression, “I hired a cleaning service a year or so ago. I forgot how long it’s been since you visited.” She clucked her tongue and shrugged one shoulder.
Once Holly was seated on a high stool at the kitchen counter, Miranda ground fresh beans, her sandy red hair wisping out of the sloppy bun she’d tossed it in. How could Holly have forgotten how good she felt around her aunt? She always had a smile, always had energy even when she couldn’t possibly have slept more than four hours the night before. She’d been the one to insist that Holly decorate her parent’s cakes for their birthdays and to let her have flour fights after making Christmas cookies. She was always halfway between an adult that was… an adult… and a friend that Holly could play with.
“Here you go, Kid, just a touch of vanilla and a hint of cinnamon.” Miranda kept one hand blocking Holly’s view when she set the mug on the counter. The rotund little mug was bright blue and smelled like heaven. “Are you sure you’re ready for the big reveal?” Her eyes were dancing over the counter, clearly pleased with this little treat.
Holly’s cheeks were already starting to ache from smiling so hard. Maybe she should just go to college in-state. She’d gotten into two of the smaller colleges in Chicago. She could live here with her aunt, maybe. “Yep. Let’s see what you’re working with, Aunty Mir.”
“Ta-da!” She swept her hand away with a flourish, cackling like
the Wicked Witch of the West.
Holly couldn’t suppress a deep belly laugh when she looked down. Depicted in the mug was a spider’s violin shaped abdomen, the legs stretching out in froths of milk, two specks of cinnamon depicting droplets of blood on its fangs.
“Oh heck no! I am not drinking a spider!” Holly screeched at her aunt between giggles. They’d once spent two hours hiding at the edge of the closed kitchen door in her parent’s old apartment, waiting for Holly’s dad to get home and kill the quarter-sized spider that had somehow gotten in there. He had been utterly disgusted at the two scaredy-cats. For months afterwards he’d hidden plastic spiders throughout the apartment anytime Miranda was going to be babysitting Holly.
Still chuckling, Miranda swirled the spider away and nudged the cup toward Holly. “I just had to. I couldn’t help myself. Been practicing that all week, since your Mom called and asked if you could stay. I’ve been so excited, I even got Jared to cover for me tonight at the restaurant.”