Vision (2 page)

After a quick check in at home, answering a
list of sterile questions administered by Liz who unfortunately
picked up the phone with her guilt clad, I’m so busy running around
and really need to be working voice, I turned full attention to my
new surroundings, absorbing everything around me like a sponge. The
Brown’s were warm and laid back, easing my angst almost
immediately.

Sienna was my physical antithesis, with board
straight, short pixie black hair and hazel eyes contrasting her
creamy skin, a small nose stud adding to her exotic flavor, and a
petite build confirmed we would not be sharing clothes.

She gave me a quick once-over, and I could
“hear” the excitement in her head about my arrival
. She seems
nice; I hope she’s nice so we can chill. Love the hair…

But she talked one hundred miles an hour and
I struggled to keep up. “You’ll love it here!” was the last thing I
heard her say before we pulled into their driveway.

I smiled and nodded.

One thing I can do is tune people out
mentally, which often leads to tuning them out altogether, which is
rude I know but difficult to control. Hearing head voices and
actual voices talking is like doubling the number of people around,
which can cause full-blown sensory overload. My sentience doesn’t
require intense focus or eye squinting or other visible displays of
channeling like in movies; it just is. And since I don’t divulge my
bizarre world to others, I can seem aloof when really I’m just
trying to survive without my head imploding.

“Here we are!” Patrice exclaimed in the late
afternoon when we arrived at the two-story brick house on Cherry
Hinton Road, about a mile from the college. Sienna showed me to my
room next to hers, a quaint, light, white washed space with a bed,
nightstand, dresser and small television – reminiscent of a cozy
room inside a quaint inn or bed and breakfast.

“Oh, and warning!” Sienna turned before
leaving my new room. “Mum’s cooking will put sneaky weight on so
watch out! Not that you need to or anything. You look spectacular.”
Stuart will drool over her.

For a moment, I forgot. That sometimes
happens too and I was jet lagged. “Who’s Stuart?”

Her eyes expanded. “Excuse me?”

Oops! Commence back-pedaling. “Oh nothing,
just...thinking out loud.”

After tilting her head in puzzlement, Sienna
pointed me toward our shared bathroom at the end of the hall.
“Fresh towels in the loo. Make yourself at home,” she said, still
thinking about what just happened.

I longed to wash the travel dirt down the
drain while Patrice prepared supper.

Those curls are to die for
, I “heard”
Sienna think as she went downstairs.

That made me smile because I love contrasts
and envied the whole dark hair against the fair skin, especially
since my hair and eyes are basically the same color…boring. Funny
how we always want the opposite of what we have…

Sienna spun me around Cambridge like a
whirling dervish, determined to acclimate me to the town before
school started, so that’s how we spent the two days before classes.
I tried to stay awake when my Portland body wanted to sleep, and
sleep when I was used to being awake.

The morning classes started, I walked
downstairs just as someone knocked on the front door. Hesitating, I
hoped one of the Brown’s would answer since it wouldn’t be anyone
for me, obviously.

“Stuart!” Sienna squealed as she flew past
me, leaping ballerina style toward the door then throwing it open,
and herself in the arms of perhaps the most perfect guy I had ever
laid eyes on. Her legs were tied around his waist as she smothered
his face with kisses. “You look great! How was Greece?” She never
mentioned a boyfriend, but why would she? We just met and it’s not
like we were BFF’s. She playfully tossed his onyx hair, which
looked no different for wear. I couldn’t stop staring at his large,
haunting eyes, and he made it easy by staring back.

“You missed me obviously,” he smiled kissing
her cheek, filling me with sudden displaced envy. “Greece was fun.”
The rich tone of his voice filled the air. Dizzy with discomfort,
embarrassed for feeling so giddy, my stomach was doing synchronized
double back flips, making me blush.

Thank god he finally blinked. “You must be,
Layla.”

My throat closed up and the room felt hot. It
was not cool to do this over my roommate’s boyfriend.

Pull it together. “Yes, hi.” I raised my hand
up in some lame attempt to disguise the jittery greeting.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, making me too nervous to read
him. I abruptly excused myself, dashing to the kitchen for a bagel
and coffee with a sudden rush of total inadequacy.

After initial “hellos” my social skills tend
to suck big time anyway, and his sudden stunning appearance didn’t
help in that regard. I shoved a few bagel pieces in my mouth chased
by swallows of coffee. So, that was the Stuart she was thinking
about – why would she be worried about him drooling over me? They
appeared to be a happy couple.

We drove to school together in Stuart’s Saab,
apparently a pre-established car-pooling arrangement set in motion
prior to my arrival. I didn’t know whether to rejoice or cringe.
Something about his presence was intoxicating, but I was a mere
awkward third wheel.

Stuart continued to stare at me through the
rear view mirror, causing me to focus my gaze out the window.
“You’re taller than I expected.” His crooked grin was warm, but I
get defensive when strangers reference my height as an icebreaker,
or reference any physical quality for that matter. It’s like, if
you’re taller than five and a half feet with anything other than
board-straight hair, you fall in the anomaly category of humans.
And if you read as many books as me, forget it. Freaky are you.

So because he violated my rule about
introductions to which he held no prior knowledge, my
self-possessed acerbic tongue took over. “Yes I am on the tall
side. This is true. And my hair is naturally curly, and these
aren’t contacts.” If my defensive inflections weren’t evident
enough, he certainly noticed my eye roll in the rear view mirror.
“And yes, I was named after the song by Eric Clapton when he was
with Derek and the Dominos, not that MTV unplugged version, because
my Dad is some sort of purest, sentimental rocker.”

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