Desiderium: The First Five Pages

I'm about to start reading a new YA book, but I've been so caught up with the first couple chapters of my own book that I haven't had a chance yet. So instead I'm posting the first 5 pages of Desiderium for anyone who wants to read them. Some agents request 5 pages, and some request 10, but either way the first few pages have to be the best they can be, so if you have any suggestions or comments about the first 5 I would love to hear them. Please be honest! Even if you don't have any comments, I would love to hear if you find it interesting, or if it loses your attention at any point. This information would be especially helpful in knowing where to speed up the action. Thank you so much in advance for all of your feedback.

Alright, here goes...

Chapter 1

The deadbolt of my front door clicks and the door creaks open, challenging me to move faster. More time to get ready would be nice. As soon as I think it, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to distract myself. I can’t want that. I can’t want anything. Not if I don’t want to end up in jail.

“Are you ready to go, Rhiley?” JM wanders into the kitchen.

“Only if I can study in the car,” I plead.

“You do know you can take a break, don’t you?”

“I don’t have time for a break,” I brush it off.

“I think you might be the only 17-year-old workaholic in the world,” he smiles reservedly.

As I gather all of my stuff together I can’t help but notice the look on his face. His chocolate colored eyes always fill with worry whenever he gives me some variation of the “you work too much” speech.

“You know I don’t have a choice. And if we don’t hurry I’m going to be late for class.” I use all my force to push him through the door but he doesn’t budge. That’s one of the downsides of having a best friend who spends so much time working out. He doesn’t even have to flex to be able to resist all of my force.

He chuckles quietly and shakes his head in amusement as he steps outside. I would be mad if it weren’t for his smile. It has a strangely powerful effect on me.

I follow him wordlessly to his car and try to hide the smile that is threatening to escape my lips. I don’t know what I’d do without JM. He says he needs me more than I need him, but I don’t believe it.

“Have you heard the rumors?” JM asks as his car quietly hums to life.

“What are you talking about?” I ask absentmindedly as I pull out my textbook.

“The Desiderium,” he says pensively.

I stop in my tracks as a shiver travels down my spine.

“What about the Desiderium?”

“People are saying they found him. He’s dead.”

My eyes bore into his as the steady rhythm of my heart is disrupted.

“What happened?” my voice shakes.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “It’s probably just a rumor.”

“Probably,” I say uneasily.

I take a deep breath. Nothing about my life feels different. Not yet.

I tune out the soft hum of the radio and try to focus on studying for my math quiz. It was just a rumor. It would be silly to worry about it. When I look up, we’ve already passed the Central Washington University sign and are quickly approaching Bouillon Hall.

“Thanks again for the ride,” I say hurriedly as we pull into the parking lot.

“No problem. I’ll see you in sixth period,” he hollers after me.

Safely inside, I slow down to a walk and check the time as I turn the corner. Once I reach the secluded classroom, I slide into an empty seat in the back with just enough time to cram in one final minute of studying before the lecture.

“Good morning class,” the professor interrupts my thoughts. “Please put everything under your desks except for a pencil. For those of you who have just added the class today, you will not be required to take the quiz but you will be responsible for the material. For everyone else, you have exactly ten minutes.”

Students are always adding and dropping classes in the first couple weeks of class, but there’s always the slightest chance I’ll see somebody I know from the high school, even though there aren’t very many high school students who take advantage of the Running Start program that lets us take college classes for free.

I recognize most of the faces in the room from the first week of class. I’m about to give up when I spot a student a couple of seats to my right. He brushes his curly amber hair out of his face to reveal startlingly deep blue eyes. I’ve never seen anyone with eyes that blue. He doesn’t look much older than me, but I don’t recall seeing him around Ellensburg High School. I definitely would have remembered him.

As if somehow able to sense that I’m staring, he slowly turns in my direction. Almost instantly, his eyes catch mine and a jolt of adrenaline courses through my body. There is something about the way his eyes lock with mine that’s incredibly exhilarating.

He raises his eyebrows, adding a sense of mystery to his subtle smile. My lungs suck in extra air, slowly bringing me back to my senses. My lip twitches into a smile and I convince myself to look away. It isn’t easy.

Someone jabs me in the shoulder and shoves the stack of quizzes in my face. I slide one off the top and notice the new student doing the same. Maybe he transferred from a different section of the same class.

My pencil moves steadily across the paper until all of the questions are answered. Two minutes to spare. I flip my paper over and place my pencil gently on the desk. Everybody else is still scribbling away at their quizzes. One more glance wouldn’t hurt.

His quiz is already flipped over. His eyes quickly find mine and hold my gaze. I’m beginning to feel like an idiot for getting caught staring at him so many times. Although it is a little strange that he always seems to know when I’m staring at him—unless that’s not why he’s staring back. His expression doesn’t give anything away.

I wish I knew what he was thinking. The thought starts to form into a desire and I have to quickly regain control of my thoughts. It would be nice to get to know him. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. A feeling of resentment creeps up at the thought of not letting myself get to know him, and I realize my desire hasn’t been fully squashed. I’ve never had this much trouble controlling my desires.

I continue to fight against it and force myself to focus on something else. My eyes glide across his face and I try to memorize everything about it. His eyes do the same to me and I can’t help but wonder if he sees the same green-eyed girl with curly hair and tiny ears that I see when I look in the mirror. Our eyes find each other again and another deep breath brings me back to my senses. It feels like an eternity has passed since I finished my quiz.

My eyes flicker over to the clock on the wall.

8:08.

I do a double take. Impossible. I finished my quiz at 8:08. It might not have been an eternity since I finished, but it has definitely been at least three or four minutes. There’s no way not even a minute has passed. Concern creeps onto his face and his eyes flicker to the clock then dart back down to his desk.

I glance back over at the clock to make sure I wasn’t imagining things.

8:10.

I think I’m definitely starting to lose it. There is no way more than a couple of seconds have passed.

His eyes stay glued to his desk. Is it possible that he was somehow aware of how slowly time was passing around us? Or was everything all in my mind? Maybe JM is right about me working too much. Maybe I’m going crazy. I cringe at the thought.

“Pencil’s down,” the professor breaks the silence. “Pass your quizzes to the front of the room.”

Once the professor has everyone’s quizzes he jumps right into the lecture. My hands copy everything he writes on the board as I steal occasional glances at the new student. His eyes don’t budge from the front of the room.

After what feels like only 20 minutes, the sound of zippers overpowers the lecture. There’s no way 40 minutes have already passed. I look up at the clock just to make sure.

8:49.

Without questioning it, I toss my notebook into my book bag, pull out my Creative Writing notebook, and try to blend in with the crowd of students flocking to the door.

Once I’m safely concealed by the crowd, I peer over at him one last time. As the rest of us scuttle out the door he waits calmly to step out of the room. It’s as if he has all the time in the world.

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