Okay, that was TMI.
Immediately I regretted my sarcasm soaked reply. I felt especially terrible when the hurt grazed his face, forcing him into a subtle recovery smile. “Tall isn’t bad, and your eyes, the name is…I just…” He abruptly cut off his words, turning his attention to Sienna. “Like the hair, quite a change.”
She playfully tugged at the short strands. “Not too short?”
“No, it works. Here we are.” Stuart offered to give me a tour as we walked toward the building.
“No, thanks. I’ll find my way.” Before he noticed my coy grin and flushed cheeks, I turned on a pivot, heading to the administration office to finish paperwork and get directions to classes. I felt like pure evil, smug, and exhilarated all at once.
Sienna’s boyfriend was extremely hot.
And while he was off limits…
I couldn’t stop smiling.
CHAPTER THREE
It was difficult to focus. Why was he so disconcerting? Images of his tall, lean, muscular frame in khaki pants and a dark blue fitted button-down, estranged from an Emporio Armani catalogue, looking at me through his impossibly thick lashes, consumed me. Everything was thrown out of context somehow. Stuart was so familiar and so breathtaking I couldn’t get perspective. Certainly, we had never met…
Sienna’s boyfriend, Layla. Not an option.
“Hey! How were classes?” Sienna bounced over, joining me as we walked to the car.
“Good. Mostly just an overview today, but I already have a reading assignment. How was psychology?” I tried to match her energy level, but I couldn’t come close with my inherent introverted nature.
“Mostly rubbish but I’ll survive.” She linked her arm in mine, an intimacy I was not quite familiar with, but I found comforting from Sienna. I should get used to the concept of friends. Contact with people. Interaction. People other than me in the world.
And there he stood by the car - his part knight, part cherubic features prepared for torture – namely, mine. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, my face growing hot as we approached. One leg was crossed over the other, his brow creased as he read a book. Sienna was by his side instantly with a little hop. “What’s so interesting?” She poked his side.
“Aristotle. But I’m wondering why I chose philosophy now.” He glanced up, found my eyes, and said nothing.
“So why did you choose Philosophy?” Without trying, my timbre still bordered on sarcasm disguised as playful, even though nothing he said earlier mattered. I figured out my defensive posture was a mere cover for the overwhelming swooning sensation he gave me. I was terrified to display anything remotely resembling flirtation.
Also, it was slightly disturbing how, on some level, it was like he knew I was coming, that he knew me. But that was impossible since I barely knew me. But something about the sound of his voice when he said, ‘you must be Layla,’ seemed…definitive, certain. And damn if I could read him to save my life.
“Oh, my destiny is pre-determined,” he smiled sideways, “This is just me biding time.” He snapped the book shut, signifying the end of our chat. After opening our respective doors, he hurdled himself over the car hood like a stunt man. Landing like a cat, he winked at me, making me self-conscience about Sienna already sitting in the car.
“Family business?” I asked. He responded with a questioned brow. “Your pre-destiny?” I clarified.
The ends of his lush lips turned upward, but he chose not to engage further.
Why can’t I read him?
“Stuart is cute,” was how I struck up a nonchalant conversation later when we were upstairs, in an attempt to pry without getting caught. “How long have you been together?” Now my voice was too animated.
Sienna grinned from ear to ear, straightening her posture as she answered. “I guess he’s hot, isn’t he. We met a few years ago and became fast friends.”
I forced a big smile. “Yeah, he seems great.” A pang of envy knocked my insides, and I quickly chastised myself for going there for the hundredth time in one day.
This time she seemed to read me. “Oh, did you think…we aren’t together, together, just great friends.” Her eyes grew wide waiting for my reaction.
“Yeah, right.” I said in disbelief, and relief. “You’re not dating?” That was a hard sell, watching how she threw herself at him earlier. But when I thought further, they hadn’t kissed the way two people would who had been apart during a big portion of summer. And they hadn’t held hands or shown intimate affection, typical of a romance.
Was she crazy then?
“No silly, I prefer girls. Stuart and I are friends. That’s it. But I could tell he fancies you.” Her smile illuminated the room.
I could have sworn her and Stuart were together. Maybe it was just hard to imagine Stuart single. Cambridge was really mutating my skills. “Uh, he doesn’t fancy me, Sienna. He was just fascinated by my freakish height and wild mane. I tend to stand out, even when I don’t want to.”
“Bollocks! You are gorgeous and fit in well here. I’m the one who still looks like I’m eight years old. And you’re not too tall so stop it.”
I returned her contagious smile. “You look like a rock star, Sienna. I want to get my nose pierced now.”
Sienna beamed and leapt to her feet. “Now that we’ve established we’re both smashing, let’s see what Mum’s brewing up. I’m famished. Then we’ll talk about piercing.”
Patrice did have skills in the kitchen, and it was a treat to have actual food prepared each night, something I was ill accustomed to unless it was me doing the cooking.
After dinner we retreated to our respective rooms, exhaustion kicking me hard in the head. I had to sleep. A combination of delayed jet lag, and adjusting to my new life knocked me out almost instantly.
They were chasing me again. I teetered on the edge of the cliff but the big, burly man in the kilt and black stringy hair laughed, pushing me into the dark abyss of crashing waves. I tried to scream, but the effort gurgles and sticks in my throat. Falling in a state of paralysis and unable to change destiny I let go, allowing the whistling air to embrace me as it rushes passed my ears. The sensation of endings made me sad, the finality of life, the inability to move forward - so unfair, yet impossible to fight.
These visions were cloaked in relentless melancholy, death and loss following me everywhere, even after they ended.
Waking with a start, it took a moment for my heart to slow down enough to remember I was no longer in Portland. Then I grew angry when I realized the nightmares had chased me across the ocean.
Stuart picked us up again in the morning, and later I asked Sienna if he would be our regular mode of transportation.
“Why? Do you not want him to pick us up?” She was slightly hurt.
“No, I just wasn’t…expecting…no, it’s fine. Sorry.” I felt silly making such a big deal out of a two-minute ride one way, even though it was shear torture being so close to him.
And while I couldn’t read him, I sensed a vast hidden history tucked away safely like a secret. He made me think of fallen angels and passion and he smelled amazing; rain and woods and breezes that shifted as he moved. His voice called like a song and me made me think of KT Tunstall singing White Bird –
Half of you is heavenly
Showing off your purity
The rest of you is from the street
Like to laugh where they both meet.
For the record, this is so not typical of my usual behavior, associating guys with songs and the whole smitten thing.
We were mostly silent during the short commute. My fingers wandered to the pocket containing the mysterious letter from Abbey Grace, still stowed in my bag. Maybe I would call her during holiday break…maybe. The thought made my heart palpitate, and so did Stuart, as he watched me from the mirror above the driver’s seat. It was difficult to concentrate on anything else with him around. His aesthetic…gifts were distracting – no, his existence was distracting.
Whe
n he got out of the car, lifting his arms above his head in a quick stretch, I glimpsed at the cords of muscle pushed against the short sleeves of his t-shirt before he grabbed his jacket…
“Earth to Layla.” Sienna reminded me where I was, and what I probably shouldn’t be thinking.
The dark gray eyes and scrambled golden hair made it impossible to look away.
“Hi. Andre Branson. And you are?” The gorgeous boy standing over me broke the stillness of my concentration. I wasn’t expecting to socialize while sipping coffee and reading The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende – one of my first Lit assignments, and second read of the novel. But here we both were in the dining hall.
His charisma could have blown open a safe. The single eyebrow piercing in his left brow and confident grin radiated edginess that was off-putting. Caught somewhere between jock, artist and rebel, he managed to coax a shy smile from me. “Layla Stone.”
His hand extended to shake mine, which he continued to hold as he pulled a chair over from another table, assuming I wanted him to sit.
Hhmm. A cocky bastard.
“Mind if I sit?” He asked, after he was seated.
“You already did.” I fired back, widening my smile.
Also for the record, I never attract this much male attention.
The palms of his hands held his face. He studied my features, wasting no time moving in for the kill, making my heart do somersaults. I resigned to the fact that my pheromones must be over-active from the move, or guys were more appealing here, or I was loosing my mind.
“Where are you from?” He asked inquisitively.
“Portland. Oregon.”
“Fascinating.” He shot me a slanted smile.
“Not really,” I answered dryly. “More like wet and boring.”
Undiscouraged, he only chuckled at my response then chatted freely about himself while I listened. Andre’s family was a well-to-do London clan with high hopes for their son. As with most sixteen year-olds, he didn’t have a filled out sense of purpose yet, but evidently his father had already set the bar high for his only male offspring. His easygoing demeanor was bent with distraction, struggling with some sort of conflicting thoughts or emotions I couldn’t read. Aside from reading the Brown’s, no one else was coming through. Certainly not hot guys.
“You’re beautiful. Go out with me. Saturday.”
Did I miss a chunk of conversation?
That was more like a statement than a question.
And are there no verbal filters here?
I felt myself blush. “Um, Andre…we just met. I don’t really know you and I live with…”
Before I finished his hand raised. “Stop there, pretty girl. The entire purpose of a date is to continue to get to know each other, right?” He didn’t pause long enough for a response. “And surely your host family doesn’t expect you to join a convent, do they?”
He was cute and mildly fascinating – maybe more than mildly – a bit…dangerous? Provocative? Stuart’s face flashed before me, giving me pause from the unanswered proposition hovering over my head. Part of me wanted to decline for no logical reason, except the thought of Stuart who was…perfection and likely unattainable and who had not asked me out yet and why would he.
And while we commuted to and from school together, he kept his life private, opting for small talk and jokes during the short drive. Since Sienna road shotgun, I mostly kept to myself in the back, or at least pretended to while I stared at the back of his head and eavesdropped, listening to every lush syllable...
“Well?”
I whistled out a small rush of air. “Okay,” I smiled, “Let’s go out Saturday.”
His hands hit the table tapping a few quick beats. “Yes. Good.” He jumped to his feet. “Pick you up at the Brown’s at, say, seven?”
I nodded, watching him strut away, feathers spread out in full peacock conceit, knowing he had won.
And I had a date. A date with a Brit named Andre I knew nothing of other than he was a fellow student at Sixth majoring in Law.
Later I shared the news with Sienna. “He’s kind of mysterious. Different.”
She only frowned, appearing perturbed over my weekend plans. “Stuart will be crushed.”
For two seconds, I had forgotten Stuart.
“What are you talking about? Stuart does not like me, I told you that. He has not made one move.” He just stares incessantly. Her insistence about Stuart’s invisible crush on me was becoming annoying, mostly because I wanted it to be true, and because if he did like me nothing was moving in that direction.
“He’s - a bit shy. Uncertain how you’ll take it after…” She shook her head.
“After what?” I quipped.
She flashed a ‘oh c’mon’ look. “You were just…snippy with him when you first met, that’s all. He thinks he may have blown his chance.” Sienna actually looked sad, or mad, or both. “You don’t smile much you know.” I had heard that before.
Then I regretted responding so quickly to Andre. It had been so hard to say no to him. But the truth was my attraction to Stuart was undeniable. Yet, something about him made me feel both excited and sad, and that scared me. Did I say yes to Andre for the wrong reasons? To get Stuart’s attention? To distract me from Stuart?
The evening continued in quiet civility, and I hoped she would be back to her usual cheery self in the morning.
Then I pondered how boys were usually easy to read, but I couldn’t pick up anything from Stuart or Andre.
Maybe I really was loosing my ability.
Something was off. Either that or gullibility and my flattered ego were getting the better of me.
CHAPTER FOUR
Come to us, Layla. There is something to show you. Please come. Don’t be afraid. The beautiful, familiar woman with the amber eyes beckoned me into her violent world, knowing it was dangerous, that I may perish learning the truth.
She read my hesitancy. No harm will come to you.
Yeah, right.
Sweat plastered the curls to the sides of my face and neck, turning the strands to frizz as the morning chill triggered the heat on in my room. Sienna stared at me from the doorway, giving a light wave. She had peeked in after hearing a shout, and I assured her I was fine. “I…get these stupid nightmares. Sorry to scare you.”
Unaccustomed to being checked on after an episode since I frequently woke to an empty house, embarrassment flushed my cheeks as I hurried past her, grabbing my robe on the way to the shower.
Of course, the news of my date reached Stuart, who drove with his mouth frozen into a thin line, something I didn’t think was physically possible.
Why would he care who I date? And why do I feel guilty?
His intoxicating voice startled the silence. “Don’t go out with him.” He scowled from the front right side of the car as he drove, glaring at me from the rear view mirror. His sudden shift in demeanor sounded like a warning, a premonition…so point blank as if to spring from the mouth of an elder and not a fellow teen. For some reason my defiant, defensive mode bubbled up without thinking. If there was one rebellious quality I had, it was taking orders, especially by someone my age.
“I’ll go out with anyone I want.” Yes! Delivered with the utmost confidence! Then why did his concern over my date worry me? I had never been so confused.
Sienna stared straight ahead in stone silence.
“You are stubborn and maddening. Do you even know Andre? Because I do. He’s not…good for you.” His hands nervously tapped and clenched the steering wheel as he spoke. I didn’t think Stuart was capable of anger like this.
Sometimes I didn’t know when to shut up. “And why isn’t he good for me, Fairchild?” The car was now parked. Sienna slammed the car door, walking quickly away, leaving us to our stupid quarrel.
“Because…he’s…not…his family isn’t…nice.” The crease between his eyes deepened. For some reason, I hated he was angry with me. It felt like a loss somehow. Tears burned just behind
my eyes. I mustered courage to meet his stare. “What is wrong with his family?” I swallowed hard, my voice dropped to almost a whisper.
“Layla. There are things…things…you don’t…there are people…”
“Then why don’t you give me specifics, Fairchild?”
One thing about Stuart, he didn’t have a stuttering problem. On the contrary, his speech was always eloquent and slightly – mature for his age. His voice was usually soothing, so to hear him stammer for words was unsettling.
I grew frustrated. “For god’s sake, what is it?” Classes were starting, and he was stressing me out.
Damn! Why can’t I read his mind and be done with it?
He lowered his shaking head, and his voice, smiling with resignation. “Nothing. Forget it. Let’s get to class.”
I slammed the car door, my face still burning with anger as I shook mist from my hair.
He’s the one who’s maddening! What is his problem? Why does he care? I hate that he’s upset with me but if I can’t read any evil in Andre…and if he’s jealous why doesn’t he ask me out? Argh!
I worked hard selling myself my own lies. Dating Andre without more than a brief conversation was not at the top of my list of best decisions made, but one date and it would be over.
“Hello pretty girl. Ready for some fun tomorrow?” My insides jumped at the nearly inaudible voice behind me. When I turned around, his swirling gray eyes locked in. He looked even better today in his jeans and Elvis Costello t-shirt.
“Hi, Andre. What’s with the whispering?”
His mischievous smile caused me to swallow hard. “It was only meant for your ears.” He used his free hand to brush my hair back over my shoulder. “Dress up tomorrow. I’m taking you into the city.” As he breezed away, his hand managed to graze the small of my back sending electrical currents up my spine.
“Do you know where he’s taking you?” Sienna faked interest, still not appearing pleased about the date.
Vision Page 2
