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Unlikely Allies

By

Tiffany King


www.authortiffanyjking.blogspot.com



All rights reserved. Published by A.T. Publishing LLC

Smashwords Edition. Copyright © 2012 by Tiffany King

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.


Unlikely Allies

Chapter 1



I gripped the handle of my carry-on rolling suitcase, following the anxious herd of passengers trying to disembark the plane. The slow walk down the jetway finally opened up to an obviously busy day at Denver International Airport. I zigzagged my way along, hoping to find a clearing on the other side of a large rambunctious group of teenage guys who must have been some sort of basketball team, judging by their matching jackets and above average height. Finally finding some space, I gathered myself for a moment, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. I released my death grip on the suitcase and shook my hand to get some blood back into my solid white knuckles. After adjusting my art bag and hitching it up higher onto my shoulder, I took a deep breath, looking behind me one last time, reluctant to leave behind my only means of escape. This was the first time I had ever traveled alone, and felt a little panicked at the idea of not having the ever sensible presence of my mom along to guide me. Sensible lying presence, I silently reminded myself as I searched for the luggage carousal. In my current frazzled state, I could think of a hundred reasons to turn around and jump on the first flight back to California. Right now, I could be in my garden shed-turned-art studio or at the sandy beach I normally frequented with my lifelong friends. This was supposed to be our summer. The summer we would all spend together before heading off to separate colleges throughout the country. But one lie had wiped away all my summer plans as if they had been written in the sand on that beach I was wishing for.

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