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Out of the Blue (The Sunset Series)

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by Opal Mellon




  Out of the Blue

  Opal Mellon

  Published by Opal Mellon.

  Copyright 2012. Opal Mellon.

  Cover design: rockingbookcovers.com

  Formatting: Polgarus Studio

  ISBN: 978-0-9887912-3-7

  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 person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at Opalmellon@yahoo.com.

  All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Prologue

  Molly couldn’t stop looking at the guy a few seats down.

  It was a typical first day of the new semester at her university. The girls still wore makeup and the boys still acted interested in lecture. Molly ignored them all and preferred to read Japanese manga on her laptop in the back row.

  Molly’s rabid consumption of manga had somewhat altered her views of ideal masculinity to slender, girlish men with sparkly eyes and soft hair. She knew they didn’t exist in real life, but even as fantasy they were better than the men around her. So the guy she stared at presented a unique conundrum by being beautiful like her books, but flesh and blood rather than pixels.

  His skin was tanned a light golden color, and he had blond, thick, soft looking hair. It fell around his face and ears and a little bit fell to his collar. His eyes were shadowed by long lashes and she couldn’t make out their color. His nose was long, and straight, with the tiniest discernible lift at the end. Probably a nose that would be too delicate for other women’s taste. One could hope. The only way she’d have access to a guy like that would be if he had no other options, probably.

  His mouth was carved along the edges and soft in the middle, lips that were a deeper pink than most girls. His hands were tented in front of him, graceful straight fingers just meeting at the tips. She could just imagine how those hands would feel, gently tilting her chin up, bringing his mouth down to hers. She sighed and made a huge effort to turn back to her computer before he saw her staring. She was in a particularly exciting part, where the hero was about to rescue the heroine, but had yet to show up.

  “Wow, she’s in trouble, huh?”

  Complete panic ran up Molly’s spine in an unpleasant, searing line and she slowly turned, like the lead in a horror movie that had just realized the killer was standing right behind her. A murderer, someone reading over your shoulder on your laptop — same thing as far as Molly was concerned.

  The face she looked into was too beautiful to do murder, however. The guy from a few seats down, now no seats down. She felt a blush coming on and tried to will it away.

  “I’m sorry.” He leaned back and held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I needed to borrow a pencil. You didn’t respond when I asked. I had to see what you were so involved in.”

  She glared at him, too choked to do more than that.

  “I know, it’s stupid. Who forgets a pencil on the first day of class?” he asked. “But I’m more of a pen guy anyway. Not that I have a pen today; I just hate erasing things.”

  So much for being a manga hero. She held a finger up to shush him, reached in her bag, and brought out a mechanical pencil.

  “Thanks.” He turned and put the pencil to paper. “This is a boring class huh? I hate pre-recs. What’s your major?”

  “Engineering.”

  “What type?” He tapped the eraser lightly on his notes.

  “Computer.”

  “Really? Me too.” He leaned back in his chair, slumping a little and yawning. “I guess that means we’ll have a lot of classes together.”

  Oh dear. Molly didn’t know how to feel about that. “Oh.”

  “I guess we should be friends then.” He held out a hand. “My name’s Justin, what’s yours?”

  “Molly.”

  “Wow,” he said. “Cute name.”

  She felt the traitorous blush crawling up her face again.

  The bell rang. He stood, having much less to pack up than she did. He reached behind them and pulled out her computer cord.

  “I guess I’ll see you around then, Molly.” And he placed it next to her gently, and strode away, revealing a body that was not anywhere as feminine as his face.

  “See you.” It was disappointing, but then people were never like books or manga.

  ~~~

  Two years later, Molly was still trying to figure Justin out.

  “Not another lab. This is killing me.” He yawned and stretched long arms above his head, and Molly tried not to check out his biceps.

  She looked at her best friend of two years, her only friend, and once again marveled at his face. It just wasn’t something you got used to, no matter how long you looked. And she’d looked for a good while. She was probably not his best friend. Just his lab partner and the girl he always sat by in class. She knew by the way girls waited in the halls for him to come out of class that he had many admirers. He was friendly, and beautiful, so that was to be expected. She was neither, so it was equally expected that she had pretty much zero friends.

  “Why won’t you come to the movies with us this weekend?” His hair dropped in his face as he stuck his head in front of her laptop screen. “You need to get out.”

  “I don’t,” she said. “I don’t like getting out.”

  “Why?” he asked, still blocking her screen.

  “Everything I have is right here,” she patted her laptop.

  “Wow, you really need to get out.”

  She pushed his head away. He was too close. “Look Justin, I appreciate it. But I just don’t belong with your crowd.”

  “That’s what I like about you,” he said.

  But shoujo manga wasn’t real life. The popular, good-looking boy didn’t really fall in love with the nerd. Just a year left to graduation, and she could happily work more with computers than people for the rest of her life.

  “It’s a chick flick you know,” Justin whispered to Molly in a last ditch effort to get her to come and make the night less boring. “That’s not so different from that manga you read.”

  She finally turned to him, her large blue eyes unreadable. “I can’t.”

  “We’re going right after class. We could even work on the lab later tonight, after.”

  “Hmm.” She typed something, deleted it, and frowned.

  “Why won’t you ever come out with us?” he asked. “We don’t bite.”

  “Why do you keep asking after two years?” She closed the laptop and folded her arms tightly across her baggy sweatshirt. “I’m happy like this Justin. Why can’t you believe that?”

  “Because you need people, Molly. We all do.”

  “I don’t,” she said, rubbing her eyes to adjust her contacts. “Besides, I have to meet with Professor Bosey about the last lab. He gave me an A, but he marked down enough points that it looked like a B to me. I emailed him about it but he wants me to come in.”

  “That seems weird. He should be able to solve it through email.”

  “Maybe it’s too complicated?” she asked.

  “Well, be careful,” Justin said. “Personally I think he’s a bit of a creep.” His entourage waited at the door and Justin wished he had an excuse to go with her instead of them.

  She followed his eyes. “Your fans are here.”


  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No. Why would I want that?”

  “I don’t know. Safety in numbers?”

  “As if anyone would hit on me.”

  “It’s not like creepers are picky. Not that you aren’t pretty.”

  She shrugged, but looked a little hurt. “Well, I’m not.”

  “Well, how would you even know?”

  “I don’t look like the girls waiting for you in the hallway.”

  “Yeah well, don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t put in the effort they do.”

  “I suppose not.”

  “If you wanted to, we could do makeover night.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Wouldn’t you hate that?” she asked.

  He would. How did she know that?

  “Anyway, like I said, I have my meeting.” She stood, clasping her backpack in front of her, like a barrier between them.

  “Well like I said, you should be careful. You shouldn’t meet with men alone, even if they are professors.”

  “I really think I’ll be fine. I’m not like other girls. Men don’t notice me.”

  “I noticed you,” Justin said, but she was too far away to hear him.

  ~~~

  Moments later, evading Professor Bosey’s wandering hands, Molly was chagrined to admit Justin was right. It was probably because she was not like the other girls that this was happening. If she’d had friends, if she’d had anyone who gave a crap, maybe if she was just a little nicer to other people, she wouldn’t have seemed like an easy target.

  From the minute she’d walked into his office, she’d realized that he wasn’t treating this as a normal meeting. He was wearing casual clothing, a sweater and jeans. He was a shorter man, lightly bearded, non-descript blond haircut short, and quite heavy, though he probably would have preferred stocky. She could almost sympathize with him because she knew what it was like to not be an ideal, to not be the type noticed by the opposite sex.

  She wasn’t sure what to do. She’d been naive, thinking sexual harassment was something that only happened to pretty girls. She didn’t know if she should tell him off, and she didn’t want an F. Perhaps if she put up with his breath, which was just a little too close to her neck, and his arm on the back of her chair, perhaps that’s where it would end. And neither of them would have to feel awkward. Perhaps he was just being friendly, fatherly, and telling him off would just make him angry. She didn’t know what to do.

  She pushed back her chair a bit to point at her screen, dislodging herself from his arm. “I just want the grade that is fair, professor. Nine points off a 50 point paper is not an A.”

  Bosey sat back in his chair, put one leg up over the other and stared at her for a moment. He shook his head slightly and pulled off his reading glasses. “You’re so honest Molly,” he said quietly, still looking at the glasses. “That’s what I like about you.”

  “Thank you,” she said, still pointing at the screen, her finger slowly drooping. “So honestly, I’d like you to adjust the grade.”

  “That kind of honesty is rare,” he said, putting a hand on the top of her laptop and gently forcing it closed. “I don’t think you realize how much.”

  “Erm. Thank you,” she said, pushing her chair back so that she could stand. “If you’ll just get that grade changed, I have to get going. Got to get to work on that lab.”

  “Or maybe.” He put a leg out to block her chair, trapping her against the desk. He moved his chair so that he was behind her, so that he could come around the front of her with his hands. “Maybe I could just forget about the lab, and give you an A.” His arms reached around to try to pull hers to her sides.

  She covered her chest. She could feel her heart in her stomach. Pounding. It was like something straight out of a manga, and she felt that she wouldn’t love reading them much after this. It wasn’t thrilling at all, it was disgusting, and frightening. And there wasn’t any handsome prince running in to stop him.

  “Stop acting like this,” he said, struggling with her arms. “I know you’re lonely. I am too. I know you don’t have any friends.”

  “I have a friend,” she said, thinking of Justin.

  “Oh yes, the girly boy who uses you for homework?”

  That shocked her enough that Bosey was able to pull both her arms down so that he grabbed both her wrists. “Stop it,” she said. “I’ll scream.”

  He put a hand over her mouth. She tried to bite him.

  He dropped her hands and reached for the hem of her sweater.

  “Shhh,” he said. She tried to push his hands off but didn’t succeed. He pulled her sweater up a few inches. “Don’t fight me. This will be good for you too. Not to mention your grade.”

  A tear tickled one of her eyes, welled up and started a tingly line down her cheek. She faced this alone, and no one would know or care. And it was her fault for always going it alone. She closed her eyes and imagined things were different, clutched his hands with cold fingers, and prayed.

  The girls walking ahead of him all looked oddly similar to Justin. Short skirts, tight jeans, shirts that hung low in flattering colors and ruffles. He couldn’t discuss engineering with them. He couldn’t annoy them or make them act awkward. But they were good types. The type people expected him to be around.

  He took one last look over his shoulder to see Molly headed to E wing, taking wide strides that made her poof of hair bounce and her baggy sweater swing from side to side where it met the back of her legs. An icky, prickly sensation crawled along his shoulders. She really should take someone there with her.

  “And Justin’s the perfect guy to take to these movies. He’s practically a girl anyway.” Jenny smiled at him.

  “Thanks,” he said, frowning. “Listen guys. There’s something I have to check on real quick.”

  They turned as one and raised their eyebrows and folded their arms.

  “What do you have to check on?” Jenny asked, looking down the hall. “That girl from class?”

  “How did you—” He shook his head. “Never mind. Yes. I was hoping she’d come with us tonight.”

  “Well did you ask her?”

  “Yes,” Justin said, feeling more desperate to leave the conversation. “She said no. We have a lab together though. I’ll meet you all at the theater.” And then, despite hearing several comments about the disappointment he was causing, he turned to walk down the hall, the click clack of their high heels fading angrily into the distance.

  E wing was a very brown hall. The beige linoleum of the main hall ended and met orangey brown carpet that matched a little too well with the brown brick. Justin wasn’t sure which office was Bosey’s. He wasn’t the type who visited teachers. The grade he got was the grade he got.

  Finally he found the right door. He tried to look through the window, but the blinds were closed. He felt adrenaline start to run and told himself to calm down. He was probably imagining things. Calm down. Molly can handle herself. No she can’t, she doesn’t even think she’s worth handling.

  He grabbed the doorknob, but it was locked. He hated locked doors. Too much happened behind them. He ought to know. And Molly was behind this one, needing him. He grabbed a paperclip from the little tray below the corkboard, and unbent it with determined fingers.

  Molly heard someone rattle the doorknob. Please god, let it be another appointment. Something to distract him while she kicked him in the groin and ran.

  She tasted the salty sweat from his hand, could smell it. He was still yanking at her sweater, and she was still fighting it. This was so foul. She vowed not to read another shojo manga as long as she lived. She vowed to change, to be kind, to make friends, to not be alone anymore.

  The door stopped rattling. The hand stayed over her mouth. Bosey dropped her shirt. “Did you invite someone to come with you?”

  She shook her head as much as she could with his hand there.

  “Of course not,” he said. “Who would have come?”

&n
bsp; She sighed, knowing he was right. She was ready to sob when the door clicked and creaked open. She tried to pull back and look at the door, tried to reach up and pull his arm off her mouth but he had already released her and was standing and moving away. He looked at her with hard eyes that warned her to stay in place, and faced the door. She pulled her sweater down, trembling, and looked back to see who’d come in.

  Justin stood there, surveying the scene for a moment, his face splotchy with red, his brows pushed together. He looked from Bosey, to Molly, and his eyebrows raised as if to ask her a question.

  “Help.” She ran away from Bosey, to the wall, so he couldn’t punish her for ratting him out.

  “It’s not what it looks like.” Bosey shoved his hands in his pockets, and then shrugged. “In fact I’m glad you came by. Miss Harper appears to be having trouble.”

  “So it would seem.” Justin looked at her again.

  “He’s the trouble,” she said. “He attacked me.”

  “I think you could probably guess what happened,” Bosey said, adjusting his sweater. “Sometimes students get the wrong idea. I admit I’ve tried to be kind to Miss Harper, and perhaps misled her in some way, however unintentional.”

  “He’s lying!”

  “She has very few friends, and I suppose she must have imagined something between us.” He rubbed his brow. “I’d appreciate it if you could escort her back to—”

  He didn’t finish his sentence because a fist smashed his face, making his head fly to the side, taking his body with it down to the ground, spittle flying down behind him in an arc from his mouth.

  “I know that it’s sometimes the loneliest kids that people choose for sick games,” Justin said, grabbing the man by the front of his shirt and bringing him up, only to slam his fist into his face again. “I know that people take advantage of people they think can’t defend themselves.”

  Bosey slumped to the ground and Justin pulled him up by the hair. “And I know that, more than anything, abusers will lie, because people will often trust them over the victim.” He glared at Bosey, who stared back vacantly. “But not me.” He let him fall to the ground then looked up at Molly.

 

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