Within a small Colorado town, there's a quiet forest entrenched in almost-forgotten local folklore. When high school soccer player Michael Cole sees the new girl Evelyn, walk into his senior English class he is forever changed. His passion for the mysterious, secretive girl takes him deep into the mystical world of which she is a part.

As their separate worlds collide, Evelyn and Michael embark on a magical journey into perilous realms where dangerous creatures are determined to defeat them. Will their forbidden love be able to sustain them? Find out in the first novel of this romantic elfin novel saga.

(Publisher's Note: Previously published under the title: Guardians of the Gate)

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I remember the first time I saw her, meandering like a ghostly vision up the hallways of Green Mountain Falls High. Like an artist or a writer, I noticed all the details others missed. My father used to tell me, “Michael, you’ll make a great poet someday.” I didn’t know then it was she who would inspire the poetry in my own life.
Poetry of passion...
Poetry of torment...


MONTH ONE: MARCH
Evelyn

Her snow brown boots cover her feet and her high white socks stick out over the top. Her white leggings are snug, and wrap around her lean legs until they disappear underneath her blue jean skirt. A small fragment of her white shirt can be seen underneath her avocado colored jacket. Her honey-hued beach sand hair is highlighted by the late morning sun, shooting through the English Class window and into the hallway.
We are both heading in that direction. She pushes her hair that dangled past her breasts over her caramel toned face as if to hide her beauty, but there is no dimming her effervescence. She shines like a lost jewel discovered for the first time by all the eyes upon her. Whispers echo through the halls in wonder. Her fluffy rose lips glitter with ruby tint. Her emerald, almond eyes speak to me as I stand paralyzed with my mouth agape.

The head cheerleader of our school, Tanya, pushes her way through the crowds gathering in the halls before the next class bell. A clique of jocks stands at one end while disparate ‘alternative’ cliques huddle in the corner. A few girls giggle in secret near their lockers while covering their mouths and peer at the new girl. She drops her class schedule and bends to pick it up. Tanya’s cheerleading athletic shape bumps into the new girl and she falls over hitting her knee.

I rush to help her back to her feet, extending my hand. Tanya smirks and we all know she did it on purpose. My heavy glare makes Tanya hurry away from the scene. I know Tanya well, or I should say everyone knows Tanya. Her large frame is the perfect base to the cheerleader’s pyramids and the streak of blond she highlighted her chocolate hair with was the talk of last month. It didn’t take much for gossip in this town. Tanya attends to all of the sports games. I play on the soccer team. She often attends to gawk at the athletes when she isn’t practicing cheers with her squad or cheering for our football team.

“Are you alright?” I speak the words without elegance or eye contact. I am too taken aback by her presence for that kind of innocent intimacy. She places her hand in mine. Her touch is like a thousand waves crashing over me. I help her up and her tall, lean figure, which appeared frail from the distance becomes sturdy with well toned muscles. I glance at her schedule and a silent grin defines my lips and flushes my cheeks as I take her to the English classroom.

Her presence in the room is fresh, like the beginning of spring after the heavy snowfalls of winter. The snow is still falling in Colorado, despite the start of spring, and seems it will be for a while. It will be a couple more months before we can see what flowers bloom in our small town. Like the new spring flowers each year, this new girl is a flower of her own kind. She walks towards the back of the classroom and plops into a seat.
I settle for the seat in the front row where I usually sit next to Robby. Robby’s disheveled, layered brown hair looks like a mess. Of course this is nothing new. He pays less attention to his appearance and more attention to his academics and beloved soccer game. We've played soccer since we were kids and making it on the high school soccer team was a dream of ours that came true for both of us.

The class bell rings and the students file into the room, leaving their last moments of freedom behind. They sit studiously and focus in their seats, knowing Mr. Roth takes no excuses for tardiness or misbehavior. In this honors English class we all take education a little more seriously. His wide frame is always dressed in an impeccable suit and his dark blond hair is immaculately combed. Mr. Roth adjusts his spectacles and gazes over his attendance sheet to read her name, Evelynia.

“Class, please, say hello to Ev-e-lyn-ee-a,” he slows down each syllable to pronounce it correctly. She has just moved here from Alaska and will be joining our Senior English class.” As she corrects him, I know my life will never be the same.
“Please, call me Evelyn,” she says succinctly as she tries to hide behind her hair again. The class turns around to see this new spectacle in our school, our quiet and boring run of the mill High School. She settles into her seat, realizing she has drawn attention to herself. I can see her squirm, and then an awkward smile appears that says, ok you’ve all looked long enough, nothing to see here, turn back around now.

A few of the kids giggle while others whisper, all but me. I gaze around the classroom from my desk and whilst Mr. Roth is focused on the papers on his, I lean back in my chair like I am about to yawn and roll my head in her direction. Her heart shaped face is subtle. She glances up at me, uninvited in her space, and chills rush up my spine.

Her eyes dart down to the quiz in front of her and I roll my head back in retreat. The class is quiet and it feels like we have been there for a long time, too long. When the bell rings, everyone jumps up, ready to head to lunch. Robby is full of vigor and slides towards Evelyn. I watch as he takes her book bag from the back of her chair, in a most cordial and old fashioned way.

“I’ve got it, thanks.” Evelyn says, struggling to pull the bag back and manages to squeeze between the classroom wall and Robby to make a quick exit out the door. Robby cringes as he watches her delicate features vanish from his line of sight.

“Nice try.” I tell him. “Next time, don’t scare her.” We have been friends since elementary school. I follow him as we walk down the hall, and we watch her as she glides over the floors. Everyone tilts their heads as she goes by, gossiping, wondering. It is not just her drawing the attention of so many eager faces, but the idea of something new to our lives - something to break the monotony of our everyday. New is exciting. New is different. She is both.

She walks angelically, as if she sails across the halls instead of walks across them, but of course one foot does go in front of the other. I lose sight of her as she turns the corner. Robby is anxious to get into the cafeteria to eat lunch. I sacrifice my curiosity for satiating Robby’s appetite.

We join our table with our four other friends. I sit between Laura and Sarah. Robby sits across from me between Taylor and Lee. Laura strokes her blond hair with a wooden comb which she demands refines her locks for her role as head cheerleader. She has a crush on Taylor and says he has dark chocolate skin that tastes sweeter than the mounds chocolate bars (not that she has ever had the opportunity). I try not to keep that mental image in my mind for too long. As I sit down she is quick to tell me her thoughts on this new girl.
“Did you see her? Her skin is ghastly.” Laura sounded like a bird crooning in pain which I could only deduce was from her extreme jealousy. I place my lunch tray in front of me and grab the plastic covered sandwich. I answer her as I unwrap it.

“She’s in my English class.” I say plainly. Sarah brushes her elegant long brown hair away from her face and behind her ears to eat and listen intently. With her hair behind her ears, I see the few freckles across her nose and cheeks which she tries to hide with make-up. “I thought she looked nice.” Nice is an understatement, but I don’t want to give Laura any more fuel to be jealous.

Taylor turns my way when I say, nice, because he knows that is my word for hot, of course he would just say hot. He has no inhibitions. Taylor is another soccer player on our team who sits across from Laura every day at lunch and is still oblivious to her preoccupations of him and when lunch is over he will head straight to me and try to weasel out information about this new girl. His blond highlights in the middle of his dark hair marks him from a distance. If Laura and he ever finally get together they may just be the quintessential jock couple of the year.

“You are going to have to show me her sometime. Everyone is talking about her.” He pauses in thought and then continues, “I know, tomorrow I’ll meet you outside of English class before heading to lunch.” Taylor responds.

“Wait at your own risk.” I retort with a glint of humor and quirked brows. Taylor knows my interest when I described her appearance as, nice, and he smirks before eating his cafeteria food. Sarah crunches down on her apple and studies the variety of vegetarian delights on her tray before picking one up and eating it. She smiles at Lee who sits across from her and her right cheek bunches up in a high corner of her jaw line.
“I saw her in the hallway before lunch. I thought she looked sweet.” Sarah defends. Her words speak less about Evelyn and more about herself. Sarah is as naïve as anyone can be at seventeen.

“Always seeing the best in people.” Lee interrupts eagerly, because it means conversing with Sarah. Lee’s Chinese features provide dark, chiseled, almond eyes. He is gifted with computers, a typical cliche. We used to joke with him about it when he first joined our soccer team, but since he hacked into the school computer network last year and was suspended for a month, the jokes have become more of praise. He reaches across the table and grabs a few carrots from Sarah’s tray.

Her lips purse and she speaks a French phrase that none of us know except Lee, but from Sarah’s tone and Lee’s retreat, it must have meant something in English like, don’t touch my food. Sarah’s long brown hair sits perfectly trimmed like she used a ruler to cut the edges straight and her fashionable appearance is only trumped by Lee’s designer jeans and Laura’s school cheerleading uniform.

Lee and Sarah are the only two at our table that speak a foreign language. Lee knows Mandarin and French, but Sarah speaks fluent French. They never have much in particular to talk about in French, but the usual phrases about weather and well being and the less common phrases usually involving food, but they seem to enjoy the little French they do communicate with one another. I think Sarah just likes the idea of all things foreign. She fidgets with her fingers and pinches her face in childlike fashion when she is not eating and talking.

Additionally, they both always come to school impeccably dressed, something Robby could never aspire too. Robby twitches his nose when he ponders in deep thought, which is too often for most of the students here. His verbose, over the head way of speaking lacks most of the local colloquialisms and common elocutions necessary for keeping the attention of most girls here, but he impresses the teachers which is where he spends much of his time.

He desires to attend Yale upon graduating, a school I have longed to get into most of my academic life. I have lived in this small town most of my youth and am itching to get out of this place. Across from our table is where most of the cheerleaders sit, along with Tanya. Laura would normally sit with them, but her current focus has been Taylor these past few months.

Like Tanya, Laura is quick and efficient to defend her turf. The cheerleaders are the talk of the school and if something or someone else mandates that attention away from them, they are effective in putting it, he or she back in its place. On the other side of the cafeteria is another table filled with ripped jeans, concert shirts, greased hair, and tattoos. Near the wall of the lunch room is the large table full of football and soccer players –the athletes.

I sat with my friends there last year, but this year has been different for me, Robby and Lee. We try to buckle down on our studies to ensure the acceptance of a top ten school. We separate from the parties and loud lunch hours in hopes that our sacrifices will pay off in the end. Interspersed throughout the rest of the café is everyone else, neither notable nor influential, but filling the spaces of seats.

The bell rings to announce the end of lunch and we split up as we each head to our next class. Mine is Physical Education. I head to the gym to change and then the track and field outside. That is when I see her. She is in a white gym uniform, sitting on one of the benches, waiting for her name to be called. It hasn’t been but about an hour and yet I feel like I’ve missed her.

“Evelyn.” The coach calls and her piercing eyes dart upward. She lines up in the third lane spot where Mr. Phillips points.
“Michael.” The coach calls again. I jump off the bench and stand next to Evelyn in the fourth lane. We all have our positions on the track. Standing next to her, it is difficult to concentrate. She smells like Jasmine flowers. Our gym instructor, Mr. Phillips, wants to assess our running. We need to run once around the track against the clock. If we cross the finish line under five minutes we pass, and over five minutes we fail. Most of us are timed at just over four minutes. A few of the class stranglers clock in at six and seven minutes.
I never have a problem running as I practice every other day with my friends. When we aren’t playing soccer on the soccer field we are playing hockey. The whistle blows and we attempt to outrace the others. Evelyn and I run side by side with only white chalk lines dividing us. We run head to head for the first two minutes and then I smile and wink as I pull past her. She returns my gesture with a shy laugh that she hides by looking at the ground. I clock in at three minutes and thirty seconds, the fastest in the class.

She completes the run in just over four minutes, ranking eighth. Not bad for the new girl. I heave while I exit the track and sit on the benches. Evelyn breathes softly and I notice there is no perspiration on her body.
“I hear its cold in Alaska.” Her tousled hair fits in with the rest of the girls in the Colorado wind. The next group of kids line up for their assessment. Mr. Phillips blows his whistle a few times, indicating a few false starts. Evelyn wiggles her feet over the dirt ground, and plays with the sand in her sneakers. Her arms are secured on each side of the bench.

“Yes, it is.” Her voice is warm like lemon tea. Her coy smile fixates on me before she withdraws her head.
“You must be used to the cold weather in Colorado then?” I ask clumsily. The sun glistens over her caramel skin which draws a jewel like substance out from underneath her complexion. Her eyes cast on the shadows on the field from the afternoon sun. Her hair drapes around her cheeks like a canopy as she basks in the sun. I stare at the jewel tone of her skin, but it passes along with the sun. “My name is Michael.” I swallow hard, “you are Evelyn?”

“Yes.” She appears like she is about to say something more and then the bell rings. The class runs inside for showers and she follows behind the other girls. The next two classes move boringly along until the final bell rings and I pack up my things and leap into my Chevy truck to head home. My mom and dad, Sue and Henry, wait for me at the dinner table as I arrive late having stopped by the local library to pick up a few books we have to read for our English class. Despite what jokes my athletic friends make, I am studious and preparing to go to Yale after graduation.

“I’ve made your favorite tonight, steak and potatoes.” Mom says standing over the kitchen stove. “Take a seat and I’ll be right there with you guys. My favorite two men in the word.”
“So how are things going Michael?” Dad says and begins eating since Mom has joined us at the table. My Dad is a man of few words and when he begins eating, I know the conversation on his side is soon ending.
“It’s fine. I did well on my English quiz today and picked up a few books for our reports due next term. Though I speak about school, all I really think about is her.

“That’s good, glad to hear it.” Dad smiles and continues eating. At night I am haunted of her. She is intoxicating. I head outside to kick my soccer ball on the driveway at dusk. I cool off my mind and let the chilly breeze wash over me. Then I head back inside to a restless sleep.

The next day I spend an extra ten minutes in the bathroom getting ready for school. For me that is a lot more extra time than usual. I wash my short, dark hair twice and stare into the mirror on the wall. I rub my fingers over the two pink pimples against my nose. At least my blue eyes are strong in color to distract girls from the imperfection. I shave my chin as I do every morning or the stubble from my hair grows and spray on my cologne.

When I get to school, I wait anxiously for my first three classes to end, so that I can go to English and see her. I head to the back of the classroom, knowing she will be there soon. She ambles in just as the bell rings and returns to her seat from yesterday. I awkwardly gawk as she politely smiles in return. I try for a conversation, but my throat tightens.

Normally, I would have no problem talking to girls. I am quite popular. But she is different. When I am near her, I feel different. I sit quietly, smiling at her for the rest of class until the bell rings and everyone leaves. I notice Taylor hawk eye me and wiggle his finger, indicating that I should move myself over to him quickly or all hell might break loose. I weed through the crowd and manage to get to him before Evelyn disappears completely.

“So, where is she?” Taylor asks in impatient anticipation.

“She left the room already. Didn’t you see her?” I retort. Taylor raises his brows and in obligatory surrender, I point to the tall, lean figure in a blue jean jacket turning the corner at the end of the hall.

“The girl dressed from the 80’s?” Taylor giggles heavy. I hadn’t thought about it. I hadn’t noticed it, but he was right. She was dressed like she was from a different time. Taylor digresses from his launch of attack on my affections for Evelyn and concedes. “You are right. She is hot.” He presses his lips like a kiss, “damn, those long legs are fine.”

For the next few weeks all I think about is her. I manage to say something in the second week like “ah, um, do you need my notes?” She shakes her head, no. Undiscouraged, I eagerly rush to open the classroom door for her as she exits, along with three other students. Today these three block my path, keeping me from watching Evelyn's delicate figure. They stop in the middle of the corridor to chat and I become stuck behind them. Evelyn turns the corner, and disappears.

It is the beginning of the third week, when I mutter something like, “do you need any paper,” while I drop my own paper on the floor, distracting her from saying anything to me. I look up at her with puppy dog eyes and manage to squeeze out, “would you like...” and then the bell rings. I want to invite her to lunch.Too late. At the end of the third week I finally muster the courage to ask her out on a proper date without feeling she will reject me completely. I see her pencil break half way through lecture notes and I pull an extra one out of my bag.

“Would you like to go out tonight? I speak slowly, not realizing fully that I am actually asking her out and she is actually listening. I may have been imagining it as I did so many times in class. “I mean if you’re not busy over the weekend.” The words spit out of my lips in anxious anticipation.

“Where?” She replies. My eyes open up wide with excitement as she talks to me and it hits me that this is real, not in my head. I am mystified by her presence.

“The Main Star Cinemas, it is up the street from where I live, thirty minutes from the school.”

She hesitates in her answer and then in apologetic tones says, “I...I can’t. I’m sorry.” She seems to desperately want to say yes, but can’t.

“Perhaps you would rather go with some other friend?” I play with the pencil in my hand.

“No, that’s not it. I’m just…I would rather do something closer to home.” She looks away and then returns a smile.

“Ok,” I say hopeful with widening eyes. “Where do you live?”

“Across from Lake Forest.” She tilts her head, exposing her jaw line.

“Way over there?” I giggle.

“I like to stay as close to home as possible in the evenings, if you don’t mind?” Her tone grows austere.
“There is a movie theater across from Lake Forest. We could go there?” Evelyn ponders. “It’s a date?” When she returns my smile it is confirmed. “I’ll pick you up around seven?” I conclude and Evelyn hands me directions to her house. Elation ignites me and I wait for her to engage me with her emerald pupils again to confirm my joy. But the teacher calls her name to answer a question.

I anxiously drive myself home and park the truck in the driveway behind my Mom’s Volvo. I race up to my bedroom and into my closet, passing over the array of clothes I have collected over the years. Nothing is right. I don’t want to appear decadent. I don’t want to appear casual like I don’t care. I find a dark blue pair of jeans and a nice brown wool sweater. That might look nice. Causal, but expensive. I stare at myself in the mirror and notice my hair has blown into an upward spiral from the wind. My hair always messes when I leave my truck windows down.

I fix my hair and shave again just to be sure of hiding any strays that have grown in the last seven hours. I go downstairs to eat dinner and then rest in the lounge until it is time to leave. Moments pass slowly while I tap my fingers on the table, and though it must have only been about an hour of waiting, it feels like a day.