Falling for Him

by Amy Stephens

  The Falcon Club:

  Falling for Him

  Book One

  Amy Stephens

  The Falcon Club: Falling for Him

  Copyright © 2015 by Amy Stephens

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and

  incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a

  fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or

  actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any

  manner whatsoever without the express written permission of Amy

  Stephens, except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles

  and reviews.

  Cover design by Kris with C&K Creations

  Photo courtesy of Depositphotos

  Interior formatting by Amy Stephens

  Chapter One

  As I stood in line to register for my upcoming classes for the fall semester I couldn’t help but notice the different types of people I’d be having classes with. The women were dressed in tailored business suits with their high heel Manolo Blahniks while the men wore their Armani suits with matching ties.

  I looked down at my sparkly Toms and wiggled my toes around knowing my feet were more comfortable than the lady standing directly in front of me who continued to shift her weight from one side to the other. But sadly, I stuck out like a sore thumb while she blended in with the others.

  We’d been standing in line now for the past hour slowly advancing forward. I hadn’t tried to start a conversation with anyone simply because they all seemed to be caught up in their own worlds, chatting away on their phones or handling business on their smart phones and tablets. Yes, I was on my phone too but I was browsing through my Facebook page. These people probably didn’t even know what Facebook was.

  And something else that bothered me, they were all older than me. Some of them could easily be friends with my parents. I knew the chances of me running into any of my former high school classmates were pretty slim, but from the looks of it, I’d be the only one here from my high school. But I guess that could be a good thing. Did I really want my old high school friends knowing I was going to school here instead of away at State like I had talked about nonstop my entire senior year? And the chances of finding a cute guy to date, well, the possibilities were slim to none from what I had seen so far. I could just see my parent’s faces now if I brought home one of the guys who was waiting in line like me. Um, no, not happening. A year or two older than me, maybe. But these guys were more appropriate for my mother.

  Two people advanced forward and I noticed someone had opened up another computer station at the registration table. Now, instead of there being six, there were seven people typing away on their computers entering in all the registration information just so we could move on to the next station. But the line was moving and that was the important thing. The sooner I could get out of here the better off I was.

  No matter how hard I tried to like it, I still had a bitter taste in my mouth about this university. It wasn’t so much that the school itself was bad, in fact, it was known to be a pretty damn good school, but it just wasn’t what I had planned for my freshman year of college to be like. Bishop University was more for working adults and I still wanted to enjoy and experience college life to the fullest, just like my friends.

  You see, everything about my first year of college had been planned since I’d entered my senior year of high school. My best friend Monica and I had been so excited that we’d be attending State together. Before graduation, we had toured the campus and picked out a cute little two-bedroom apartment we’d planned to share and had even picked out the classes we were going to take together the first semester. We were all ready to enjoy our freshman year of college just the way it was supposed to be.

  But all of my plans for the fall came crashing down the week after I graduated high school.

  My parents thought it had been cool to make this big announcement that they were getting a divorce. Yes, a divorce. My sister, Beth, and I were floored by the news. Neither of us had seen this coming and still, four months later, really can’t understand why our parents couldn’t stay together any longer. It happens, I know, but it wasn’t supposed to happen to my parents.

  But the divorce had happened regardless of what we thought and there was nothing Beth or I could do to change the way our parents felt about one another. According to them, they just didn’t love each other anymore. Why couldn’t they have waited until after I’d moved out? Why did it have to happen just as I was getting ready to live out my college dreams? My sister was hardly going to be affected by this since she was still in middle school, but I, on the other hand, didn’t deserve to have all of my plans destroyed. I wasn’t the one getting divorced.

  It was decided my mom would get an apartment closer to the city and to her job and my dad would keep the family home that was just on the outskirts of town. Beth and I were free to stay with either parent any time we wanted since we would have rooms at both places, but I knew there was more to the story than what I was seeing on the surface. At this point, I really didn’t care to know what had caused them to suddenly “fall out of love.” I wanted them to fall back in love, or at least pretend they loved each other so that we could keep our family together and not have it ripped apart.

  In the end, the divorce turned quite ugly instead of the nice way our parents had explained it to us in the beginning and accusations started being thrown at one another. Before long, I couldn’t tell which parent was lying or telling the truth and it was evident, all of my plans for the fall were now just a thing of the past. Nothing was going to change that.

  The money that had been put aside in my college fund was used to pay for lawyers and legal fees, and in the end, if I was going to attend college at all in September, I needed a new plan. I couldn’t depend on my parents to assist me with preparing for my future while they were still fighting with one another. And, to make matters worse, my mom decided to change jobs to one that paid substantially less right before the divorce was finalized. I’m sure her lawyer was just trying to get more child support and alimony for her instead of looking at what was happening now.

  So, instead of moving away to State with Monica, here I am enrolling in Bishop University. I really shouldn’t be so upset about it. I mean, after all, I am still going to college, but this is surely not the school I had had in mind. By going to school here I’m able to still live at home and work my part time job. I’m not excited about the student loans I had to take out but going this route would save me money in the long run. After all, according to what my parents tried to convince me, it didn’t matter where my degree came from. The certificate was the same regardless of the university I had attended.

  Bishop was geared more to the student who was already in the workforce with a good job, just looking to get a promotion or make a career advancement. Most of the students were married with families of their own and needed a college schedule to work around their already busy lives. I didn’t exactly “fit” that criteria but it was either Bishop or no college at all.

  I might feel a little better about coming here if I saw someone close to my own age, someone who was fresh out of high school, but so far, I’d been out of luck. Whether I liked it or not, I needed to accept the fact I was getting an education and that was what was most important.

  “Next.”

  I felt someone lightly tap me on the shoulder and I turned around to see what they wanted. I’d been so wrapped up in my thoughts I hadn’t noticed the open slot at the table in front of me.

  “You’re next up
.” The gentleman said as he pointed in the direction of the available representative.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” I mumbled and slowly made my way over to the table.

  I handed over my printout to the lady and she placed it down beside her computer monitor as I tried to get comfortable in the chair.

  “Good morning.” She said, rather pleasantly.

  “Morning.”

  I had to get out of this mood I was in before everyone around me noticed. The last thing I wanted people to think was that I was a bitch or something. I’m really not, but I’ve just got to find something that makes me happy again.

  The registrar busied herself behind her computer typing in all sorts of information. I was amazed at how quickly she typed. The printer behind her started spitting out paperwork and she slid her chair back to retrieve it. She grabbed a pen from the cup holder and marked the different areas I needed to sign my name. When I was finished, she handed me more paperwork and told me to look everything over then proceed to the next line.

  I couldn’t believe I waited all that time in line just to sign my name a few times and to be directed to yet another line. I glanced down at the paperwork and noticed the page on top had suggested classes that I should take for my first semester as a freshman. Of course English 101 was listed along with Western Civilization but why would the paperwork suggest Principles of World Religions, Introduction to Cultural Anthropology or Introduction to Geology? None of those even sounded remotely interesting or pertained to my degree in Business Management.

  I knew Business Management was pretty broad but I figured once I got a couple of my core business classes behind me, I’d be able to narrow it down to a more specific program. I was really looking forward to taking my first business class this semester too but it didn’t look like that was going to be happening according to their recommendations. I knew these were suggested classes for me but hopefully my advisor would see these aren’t really related to business and he’d suggest something else.

  I could only hope.

  I pulled out my phone again and picked up where I’d left off browsing the statuses of my friends on Facebook.

  Ten minutes passed by when the door opened and two men walked out. An older man dressed in a military uniform turned to shake hands with the other gentleman that I assumed was the advisor before he walked away. I’d never been around anyone in the military before and for some reason just seeing him intimidated me. It wasn’t that they frightened me or anything, but seeing the decorated formal uniform gave off a different vibe than the customary camouflage that I was used to seeing in the movies or on television.

  “Hi, I’m Dan McDonald and I’m going to be your academic advisor.” He said as he walked over towards me. I have to admit, he appeared pleasant and sounded friendly enough but wasn’t at all what I’d expected my advisor to look like. “Welcome to Bishop.”

  I extended my hand out to shake his and followed him into the room. He shut the door behind us and instructed me to take a seat in one of the two chairs that surrounded his desk. I noticed he had several degrees framed and lined up on the wall and I couldn’t help but to wonder if they’d come from Bishop. On his desk were a couple of small picture frames but I wasn’t unable to see who the pictures were of. Probably photos of his wife and kids because he didn’t appear to be old enough for grandkids yet.

  Dan asked me a little about my high school classes and why I’d chosen Business Management as my field of study. He didn’t ask anything personal about why I’d chosen to come here and for that I was thankful.

  Next, he told me the classes he recommended for entering freshmen. I cringed when I heard him say the exact same classes that were suggested on the paperwork.

  Damn it! Those are not the classes I wanted to take. Who in their right mind would want to take geology or philosophy? Or World Religions?

  As I finished marking the choices I realized it could be much worse. I could be stuck taking classes in one of those technical institutes you see advertised on television for massage therapy or how to cut hair. Yes, that could be me but thank goodness it’s not. I’m going to force myself to like this school even if it kills me.

  In the end, I decided on the usual entry level English and history classes, World Religions and Introduction to Geology. I really tried to squeeze in a literature class but English 101 was a prerequisite and couldn’t be taken simultaneously.

  As Mr. McDonald typed my class selections into his computer, he informed me I was the last one to enroll in the World Religions class, it was officially full and closed to any more students. I didn’t know if I should’ve been jumping for joy or squalling right about now but this day hadn’t turned out to be what I was hoping for at all. Then, he handed over my actual schedule, and if I had no other questions or changes, I was to sign at the bottom and keep the top copy for myself.

  I kindly shook his hand and stood to walk out of the room.

  “Ms. Kennedy, two of your classes are located in the building across the street but the other two are located on the Military Base that’s just a couple of miles down the road. You shouldn’t have any trouble locating it but you will need to take your schedule down to the base and have them issue you a temporary I.D. card and base pass.”

  I felt so overwhelmed I couldn’t even comment. Military base? I.D. card? What had I gotten myself into? I thought I would be going from building to building on campus, not driving across town. Just one more reason not to like it here.

  “Excuse me but did you say military base?” I questioned him, not sure if I’d heard him correctly.

  “Yes ma’am. Bishop has a joint education policy with the United States Air Force. Many of the military personnel are students at Bishop and earning their degree just like you. In fact, the gentleman that was here before you just signed up to obtain his second degree here.”

  “Oh, I see.” I really hoped Mr. McDonald didn’t sense the disappointment in my voice.

  “I can understand your fear of going to the base. You’ll find other students there as well so there’s nothing for you to worry about. We are very fortunate that Bishop to has this partnership with the Air Force. It’s a benefit for the students as well as for the military.”

  I mumbled thanks to Mr. McDonald and closed the door behind me.

  I walked back out to my car and fumbled in my purse for my keys. I pulled out my wallet, checkbook, and cell phone and still couldn’t find my keys. I patted my pockets, even though I never put my keys there, then leaned over to look inside the car. There, on the front seat, were my keys. As if this day couldn’t get any worse for me.

  I called my mom to bring me the spare set of keys from home and sat down on the curb next to my car. Right now I just wanted to be angry with the world. A few months ago I’d had a great life. Now, I was wondering if going to college was even the right thing for me. I was only going to be miserable taking classes I really didn’t want to take in the first place and now, having to go to the military base too. What next? Would it be smart to find a second job, save up all of my money and join Monica at State for the second semester? Maybe I could even go back and take out more money on my student loan. Starting in the winter wouldn’t be so bad would it? I mean, after all, I would be at State just like I’d wanted to be from the very beginning.

  Since I had nothing better to do while I waited for my mom, I pulled out my schedule and glanced over it again. I had English and history on Monday and Wednesday nights with geology and world religions on the other two nights. What kind of college offers classes only at night? How was I supposed to keep up with my favorite television shows? On the bright side, if there was one, at least I would have my Friday nights off and I wouldn’t have to get up at the butt-crack of dawn for an eight o’clock morning class like I probably would have had to do at State. But what good was a free Friday night without my best friend being here?

  I placed my chin in the palms of my hands and propped my elbows up on my knees. I could already feel it n
ow. This was going to be a long semester. I was so miserable right now I didn’t even bother to call Monica to tell her about my classes like I’d said I would. I just wanted my mom to hurry up and get here with my keys so I could go home.

  Chapter Two

  As bad as I hate to admit it, the first night of class wasn’t so bad. There were about twenty-five people in my English 101 class and I, of course, looked to be the youngest. The instructor started out by telling everyone she understood when “real life” happened and she wouldn’t hold it against anyone who made it to class late or had to skip altogether.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing since I’d always thought that most instructors frowned on tardiness and hated for their classes to be interrupted once they had begun their lectures. Don’t get me wrong, the teacher wasn’t saying it was okay to purposely be late, but that she understood when traffic was bad, when work required you to stay late or when your babysitter cancelled at the last minute. Now, if the other classes ended up being this way too, I might start to have a different opinion of it here. Wait until I shared this with Monica!

  She was already jealous of my class schedule because, as an entering freshman at such a large school, she had gotten a couple of early morning classes when all of mine had started at five in the evening. I’d finally broken down and called her over the weekend and she couldn’t believe how lucky I was to be having classes at the Air Force base. “You are so lucky,” she had told me. “You’re going to be in class with a room full of hunky military men.” Not knowing if this was really going to be the case, we had joked about swapping places with each other. I kept thinking about those gorgeous guys from the movie Top Gun and wondered if maybe she was right. Maybe I did end up with the better end of the deal. We’d see after tomorrow night when I would venture out to the base for the first time. As for tonight’s class though, there was nothing “gorgeous” or “hunky” about any of these classmates. There were no Tom Cruise’s and the only thing “hot” was the lady in front of me who was apparently experiencing a hot flash. She kept fanning herself with her notebook for most of the class. No, that’s not my idea of “hot.”