Watch The Edge Of Seventeen Novels & Stories

Already giddy with excitement, they hurried out of the kitchen laughing at themselves, Clarissa and Sydney clutching as much snack as they could carry at once, Just at the same time a shadow shifted on the patio outside. *************************************************************** Bags of chips and cans of energy drinks lay haphazardly on the floor. Two bottles of wine stood on a side stool beside the settees. Clarissa took a sip from the white wine in her glass as she stared at wide screen TV on the wall. That was the fourth movie they were watching that night. Sydney had fallen asleep while the third movie had been playing.

The sting of tears burned the back of her eyes, and a lump lodged in her throat. To her utter horror and humiliation, she saw Sébastien’s eyes narrow on her face. He came closer, and she feared even moving in case she shattered and fell apart. “What is it, Cassandra? What’s wrong? You seem… edgy.” She shook her head and laughed a bitter laugh. Was he for real right now? “Edgy…?” She’d been on a knife-edge ever since she’d laid eyes on him. Sébastien was standing so close she could smell him. Cassandra tried to control her emotions, but he came closer and the air seemed to swirl headily around them.

Soft. Tender. Then looked at the camera. “Looked at us. “Forty-eight hours,” he said. “Sign the papers.” “Or we start sending.” Mom smiled. Small. Cold. “Starting with this one.” The screen cut to another feed. Me. Age sixteen. In my bedroom. Door cracked. Julian in the hallway. Watching me change. Not touching. Just watching. Mom’s voice over it. Soft. Narrating. “He’s always wanted you.”

"We are watching The Notebook." ________

Eddie makes more notes, “Also, I’d like access to the video from the house from when the cameras were installed to now. I just want to review and make sure I didn’t miss anything.” Eddie frowns, but nods. Ash grimaces, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to watch any of that again.

Edward took the laptop from them and clicked on the play button. It was a group of angry mob chanting for the death of a someone he couldn't see clearly. He scoffed, thinking it was one of those useless videos parading the internet. He was about to shut it down when he heard a familiar voice. He looked into the video and the person was crystal clear. It was Diana.

I ask, completely confused. "The book. Hidden edges."

Adrian~ I look at the photograph for a long time. It comes without warning. Not through the layers. Not with the filing system catching it first. A Sunday afternoon. The gate at the end of the drive, and her on the step watching it. Not with a book. Not with anything. Just watching, with the specific patience of someone who has made a decision and is giving the world time to execute it. Her elbows on her knees. Her good dress already creased at the back from sitting. The buttons on her jacket done up wrong — second button in the first hole, the whole thing slightly crooked — and she either hasn’t noticed or doesn’t care.

For me, it’s the seventh home in three years. The fog presses closer, nosy and alive, and I can’t shake the feeling that it’s watching me. That the whole town is. Like Hallow’s Edge already knows I’m coming. A dark shape darts across the road ahead. Too fast to be human. The headlights flicker. The engine stutters. A cold ripple slides through the car, raising goosebumps along my arms. “Did you see...” I start. But Ms. Carter doesn’t react. She just keeps humming, oblivious. Of course she didn’t see it. Things like that only ever happen around me.