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I Am Elite (A Colors novel Book 1)




  A Colors Novel

  I am Elite

  ⭒⭒⭒

  K. A. Westra

  Copyright © 2020 by Kimberly Westra

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Cover image licensed by Canva Stock.

  ⭒⭒⭒

  Contents

  Copyright

  About this book

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Reviews

  About this book

  Earth is no longer our own. The Elite saved us from extinction over a hundred years ago. They healed our planet and cured our sick. In exchange we gave them a home.

  For many years we coexisted in peace. But now the Elite are trying to gain full control over all humans.

  Mera is forced to pretend to be Elite in order to protect her family, getting her heart involved only makes things more complicated. She fights her own insecurities and doubts as she has to prove herself as strong as the Elite.

  Her strength and motivation helps her through heartache, rebel attacks and difficult choices. But what will she do when she faces the anger of the human rebels and the wrath of an Elite King?

  A story of finding strength in yourself, even when the world says you are weak.

  ⭒⭒⭒

  Dedication

  To all of you who do not feel like you are good enough

  You are

  ⭒⭒⭒

  Chapter 1

  I quickly check my hair one last time before walking out of my bedroom. I must have checked my hair at least twenty times, but tonight I aim for perfection.

  Come on Mera..

  The amount of anxiety rushing through me is insane, we have hung out a million times. Him, Gil and I have been friends for ages. But I can’t help myself. Over the past few weeks there has been a change. Maybe it has just been my imagination, but he has been sitting a little closer, leaning in a little more than usual, and looking at me a little more than before. Last time it gave me goosebumps from head to toe, leaving me speechless.

  He has always been kind, and one of the best friends a girl could ask for. He always stood up to bullies and made sure everyone was happy. He has always been a good friend of mine, nothing more. Yet, my feelings towards him are changing. And I feel like his might be changing too.

  Maybe it is nothing.

  Still I find myself checking the mirror, checking if my dark blond hair looks good. My ponytail looks messy, but I’ve made sure every single strand is in the right place. He has to think there was no effort in my appearance, while I still look my best self.

  My hair has always been a strong feature. Not as perfectly amazing like Gilanna’s hair, but still. When I wear my hair down the locks fall down my shoulders, ending half way down my back. The length of my hair complements my slim, kind of plain, figure.

  I lean a little closer to the mirror. My green eyes are dull, my nose small. I have never thought myself as particularly pretty, never thought of a guy liking me more than a friend. Never thought I would be checking myself out in a mirror, trying to look pretty. I am not all that special. So this thing that’s happening with Aran might just be a play of my imagination.

  Who knows?

  I make my way downstairs and wait behind the front door. My hair in a perfect mess, and a little hint of make-up rests on my face. The only thing missing is some nice nail polish.

  Crap, should have painted my…

  A knock on the door stops my thought. I stand up a little straighter and paste a small smile on my face. I can't give away all my feelings just yet.

  The door opens and I stop breathing, completely losing my cool. He towers over me with his 6’3. I am only 5’6 and the first thing I see is his chest. It is strong and masculine.

  A lump forms in my throat and I force my eyes to meet his. He is grinning at me and steps aside to let me pass.

  We have been friends for eight years. I never considered him more than just a friend. Until now. How have I never noticed how freakishly handsome he is? He is a tall, broad guy, just turned twenty-six and his work at the factory makes him buff and strong. He wears his usual dark jeans and a t-shirt. Today it is a black one. It is fitting and it shows of his wonderful muscles. His blond hair is usually a little too long and unlike before, the urge to brush it away from his eyes is almost too much to bare.

  oh.. his eyes..

  Staring into his eyes make the world crumble underneath me, my knees go weak. They are a grayish shade, and even though he is smiling at me, his eyes always seem sad, giving him a cute puppy look. Have they always been this way? He lost his mother when he was a young boy. Perhaps his eyes were alive and happy before then? Still they fit his personality. They invite you to open up to him. They invite you to feel cared for, like you are never alone, like he knows how you feel.

  My legs are frozen in place. My mind tells me to move. I stand still. My eyes close and I take a deep breath, focusing on my legs.

  Instead, a whiff of Aran’s scent reaches my nostrils. That was a mistake. The breath intending to keep me steady, sends shivers down my spine. Holy crap he smells divine. He does not wear cologne, but he smells like heaven anyways. Its sweet, but with a hint of metal from his work at the factory.

  The overload in my senses numb me. I will probably never move from this spot. I must look like a fool.

  Luckily his cough snaps me out of my thoughts.

  "I was thinking, maybe we can pick up Gil and hang out by the docks?" he says.

  I turn to look at him and raise my eyebrow a little. How do I tell him I just want us to hang out today? Without my amazingly talented overshadowing best friend around? I love her, but Gilanna is an Elite. And even though there is hardly any difference between us mere humans and the Elite, she is still seen as better than us. And, let’s not forget how unbelievably beautiful she is. I cannot compete with her.

  The Elite came to our world over a hundred years ago. The human race was about to go extinct due to two hundred years of wars and horrid diseases. I have heard stories of famine, a world so broken that it would shatter at any second. All hope seemed lost. Until a small group of scientists reached out to the home planet of the Elite, Pleranes. The scientists established contact a few years prior and had a strong belief these aliens were no threat to us. So when, many years ago, the humans needed a miracle they contacted the Elite for help.

  My teachers told me that the Elite had healers, now known as the ´Green House´ among them that could cure our diseases. They also brought over talented men and women to reorganize the countries and the councils, in order to restore peace and balance in our crumbling world. These were Elite from the 'Red House'.

  Apparently the Elite became so very loved that the humans living at that time invited them to stay on this earth and live among the humans. We could use the population, and they had a lot to learn when it came to technology, which they apparently were not grea
t at. It really was a win-win situation. It was then, but not so much now. Now they control us.

  Throughout the years the Elite grew not only in numbers, but also in power. You'd think the humans would be better at defending our own earth. But, as far as I know, the humans have not stood a chance. The rebels still try, but also with little success.

  Stories about them reach our little town once in a while. They fight the Elite, often with force. But whatever they are doing has not been very effective so far. There really is no way for us humans to fight the Elite, because the Elite have one thing that we don't have. Their colors.

  Every Elite belongs to one of six Houses. You can tell quite easily which House DNA they belonged to, just by looking into their eyes. They do not have dull eyes like Aran and me. Their eyes are filled with light and color. It almost feels like they would glow in the dark. So far I have not actually seen any glow in the dark though.

  Every House color is associated with certain strengths. Sometimes I compare them to the stories my grandmother used to tell me. She would always tell me that, way back when, when the world was still fully human they had these things called comic books. These were just like the books I had to read for school, only filled with fun stories and pictures. She told me stories about heroes and villains. Most of these stories had someone with superhuman powers involved. I guess that is what the Elite are, superhuman, their talents are magnified.

  The Reds have magnified power. They are now most of the world leaders. They rule with tyranny and cruelty.

  The Yellow magnified optimism, warmth and hope. They are mostly the teachers, psychologists and other jobs that require these skills.

  The Blue magnified order and trust. I have always admired these Elite. They usually hold the most complex organizational jobs for big corporations and respected members of the Houses.

  The Orange are to be compared to the hippy artist that my ‘history know all’ grandma told me about. They, just like the Orange now, focused on creativity and positive energy. They like to do their own thing and like my best friend Gilanna they make their income by making and selling art.

  The Green House was most important when the Elite first came to Earth. They are the healers, they magnified their talents in surgery, healthcare and the use of our nature. You could call them tree huggers, always finding new amazing ways to use our nature to cure and help us all live healthier than ever before.

  And lastly, the Purple House. These are the spiritual people. The ones that pray for us. They take on all different types of religion. Making sure all people are taken care of in their own spiritual need.

  But Aran and I, we have no colors, no super powers, we are just human.

  “Actually, she said she is rather busy today. She wanted to finish her latest painting. The sun won't be out that long, shall we just go without her?" It is not a lie, per se, she really has been working on a piece.

  I quickly duck into the car to avoid eye contact.

  He doesn't seem to notice my little, not lie. He opens his side of the car, and moves in next to me.

  His car was once a stunning red, but now it has faded into a brown rust. The roof is the only thing still looking sharp. The solar panel materials are stronger than the rest of the car, making the roof a stark contrast to the rest of the vehicle. The inside of the car looks even more outdated than the red bodywork. He has to actually manually drive the car, unlike most other cars out there. It is very impressive that he knows how to steer and move the car with his feet and hands.

  Aran saved up a lot of money to be able to buy this and even though it is second, or maybe even third hand, it runs smoothly… Most of the time.

  "You're right,” he says, “let's get moving, you are not getting any younger”.

  His eyes find mine. They sparkle with the joke he just made. I playfully hit him on the arm. I love it when he is playful. Things are really shifting. Something moves inside of me. Hopefully he feels it too. It would be so embarrassing if this is all one-sided.

  He moves easily, almost glides. His feet move underneath the dashboard, his left hand on the steering wheel and the right on the stick shift. With smooth movements he makes the car his puppet. He effortlessly guides it down the dirt roads.

  How would it feel to be guided by those hands, dancing away into the night?

  “What are you staring at?” he says, startling me, taking away my daydream.

  “Uh, nothing.” I say, blushing feverishly.

  Quickly I turn away and grab my seatbelt, giving me a sense of control.

  Stupid, Stupid.

  The docks have always been one of my favorite places. It's early spring and the mountains around the lake are getting greener every day. The water is dark blue and seems to come alive as the last bit of sunlight shines upon it. Small waves crash into the wooden dock. The wildlife is waking up after the cold winter. The animals whisper in the distance. A beautiful song of birds lets my mind drift off and for a moment the world is full of bliss. I don't notice the unevenness in the wooden boards underneath my feet, but lose my balance the second I do. A small yelp escapes my lips as my body dives forward.

  Strong arms come to my rescue and pull me in a tight, safe embrace.

  "I really shouldn’t let you walk alone when we are at the docks," he says with laughter in his voice.

  My face turns bright red as I think back to all the times I have tripped while taking in the view. A small giggle escapes my throat. He is right, this is dangerous.

  His arms are still around my waste. His sad, droopy, but beautiful eyes lock with mine. They seem to become a little brighter, as if a storm is clearing. He blinks, coughs and then, quickly drops his arms to turn his blushing face away from me.

  My heart skips a beat.

  What just happened?

  "Come on, don't want to let you fall in the water," he says while grabbing my arm, pulling me towards the end of the docks.

  In the past I would have seen this as a joke and pull away, and probably fall again. But I can't seem to move. His touch on my arm makes me weak in the knees.

  He lets go all too soon. The second he does, I long for that touch again.

  We come to a stop at the end of the dock and sit down. I take off my shoes and wiggle my toes. I have always hated wearing shoes and now that spring is coming I can't wait for the flip flop season. Running around in slippers, or better yet barefoot, is the best feeling. Being close to mother earth, feeling the grass, the wind, the water.

  While looking at our feet in the water we talk about the factory, the one thing we really have in common.

  Our small town, Springlake is best known for the boat factory built at the edge of town. Aran works on the grounds and is usually lifting heavy, things. I know what he does, but somehow my mind keeps wandering off to his arms that lift those heavy.. things.

  Gosh have I really just forgotten what one of my best friends does as a job? Shame on me.

  I work in the office of the factory, as the management assistant. Pretty exciting for a human, it’s usually a job reserved only for Elite. I love organizing and planning and I try to make the office run as smooth as possible. Which seems to be good enough for my kind Elite boss, who, I now consider more of a friend than anything. But because I am in the office, and Aran is on the building site, we don’t usually run into each other at work, making it an easy topic. There is always something to say.

  “So remember Meredith? She mentioned we might be getting the Parado deal..”

  He does not reply. Odd, this is quite the big deal, it could mean a big profit for the company. He no longer stares at our feet.

  I look up and catch his eyes searching me. He is leaning back on his palms and his fingers edge a little closer to my hand.

  The faintest touch, his fingers brush mine. If my attention was elsewhere, I would have probably missed it completely.

  Pulling away from him would be the smart thing, but my body won’t move. My eyes focus on him. I tell myself to breathe
, but that also does not seem to be happening anymore. I sit in complete silence, as still as a mouse. I try to force myself to snap out of it, but all I can do is stare into his gray, droopy but beautiful eyes. He truly is beautiful.

  "Mer.." he murmurs, but closing his mouth before saying anything else.

  I stare at him, eyes wide open. Has he ever said my name so, lovingly? It feels like minutes before I find my bearings and reply with a voice barely mine.

  "Yes Aran?" I try to send a vibe along with the words to draw him in closer.

  He leans in, now our hands are really touching.

  "I…, I just.," he says stuttering and red flames his cheeks.

  I am at a loss for words and can hardly keep myself sitting up straight. He is so extremely adorable when he blushes and he needs to know that it’s ok, so I lean a little closer.

  Kiss me.

  He finds my lips first. They are soft, but firm. They are steady, but also hesitant. Searching for approval. Wanting to know if it is ok. His hesitance makes it even more thrilling. My lips press him softly, and then a little firmer.

  It is ok, you can kiss me.

  He returns the firmness and for a second we are swimming in a pool of bliss. His hand still touches mine. His other brushes my cheek.

  Then he leans back to stare into my eyes. They are stormy, but also doubtful. It is as if he is searching if this is really okay. If this is really happening.

  A small lock of hair falls before his eyes. I reach out, brushing the hair strands back.

  He shivers at my touch and leans into my hand. His hands find the small of my back and he pulls me in for one more divine kiss.

  Then he moves back and a giggle escapes my throat. My heart explodes with relief that he feels the same way, I cannot help it. Embarrassment hits me and I try to turn away.

  His arms tighten around me. Escaping his strong arms is not an option, so I look up at him instead. A large grin crosses his face. At the same time we start laughing. My heart seems to be bursting out of its seams.