Broken Compass

Chapter One

Sydney

I’m fire. I burn through life. The hot element manifests in the red of my hair, the gold of my freckles, my preference for red Converse shoes and yellow sweaters.

It also manifests in my tendency to screw up every good thing, to burn everything down in my path, like Shiva, the destroyer. I hide it as best I can. It’s my one big secret.

But I’m not really fooling anyone. Not even my two neighbors that I’ve been trying to befriend since moving into this apartment. I have to try harder. Make a better show of being normal. Just your average teenage girl, unassuming student and law-abiding citizen, with a penchant for angsty anime and club dancing.

And for hunks-next-door.

But that’s off-topic.

Get better at pretending. That’s what I need to be thinking about. I mean, it’s no wonder I’m sitting all alone on the stairs on this warm summer evening, hugging my knees, sucking on a lollypop and watching as a stranger knocks on Nate’s door.

It’s early evening, and it’s dim in the stairwell where I’m sitting, but the single bulb hanging over the landing gilds the hair of the young man standing there, head bowed, a duffel bag thrown over one big shoulder.

I lean forward, folding my arms over my knees, sucking thoughtfully on my sugary treat, trying to discern his face, but the light over Nate’s door is too dim for that.

Nate is my neighbor. Lives with his parents, he’s roughly my age, and goes to my school. I hold my breath, waiting for him to open the door.

Nate is hot.

And a floor below him lives my other crush—I mean, neighbor. His name is West, and he’s good friends with Nate.

Two attractive, dark-haired boys. These are the two guys I’m trying to befriend. And don’t get me wrong, they seem to like me. They hang out with me sometimes, have my back at school.

Is it real, though? Are we really friends?

They don’t seem to burn when they touch me, so that’s good, right? I haven’t screwed that up yet, this budding friendship—but how long before I do?

Nate’s door opens, spilling bright yellow light on the landing, jerking me out of my dark thoughts. I sit up straighter for a better view as he steps out, th

e sight of his tall figure twisting something in my chest. It feels like sadness. Or joy.

I don’t know why. It makes no sense. Friendship shouldn’t feel like that, should it?

Nate’s dark brown hair gleams in the yellow light as he approaches the blond guy. He has a few inches on him, and I stare at the way his brows create shadows over his eyes. He says something to the stranger, then pats his arm.

The blond lifts his head, and the light glints on metal. Piercings, I think, and his profile is indistinct from this angle but seems somehow beautiful. Symmetrical. Strong. A square jaw and intense brows.

Who is he?

And why does Nate gesture for him to come inside the apartment and close the door behind them both?

He never said anything about a visitor coming to stay over. Was this an unexpected turn of events I happened to witness?

He didn’t look surprised, though. Nate, I mean. He came out to talk to this guy as if he’d been waiting for him. Why didn’t he tell me he had a guest staying over?