Vision (3 page)

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.

When 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.

I curbed my enthusiasm then changed subjects.
“Not a clue. And I only brought one dress, so that will have to do.
Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what do you know about
Colonsay?”

“It’s an island off Scotland. I’ve never
been, but I think Stuart has…why?”

“Oh, no reason really. Just, curious. I –
someone mentioned it the other day…”

Suddenly I felt extremely anxious and off
balance. Dizzy, my stomach ached with something I couldn’t
identify. Almost instinctively I burrowed in her head, violating my
own rules for mind-reading friends.

But she just shook her head. Stupid American
girl, she thought, and walked away.

I was loosing friends by the minute.

To keep from going insane, I thought about
the letter, and how I should have probably showed it to Liz since
she received honorable mention, but talking to her was impossible,
and the less we talked the less I wanted to talk.

It was a conscious choice to never engage her
or seek her advice or opinion about anything. Even when announcing
the exchange opportunity to Dad and Liz one rare night we were all
home, her concerns about me
20
raveling alone and being gone for a year were met
with a blank stare from me. I had ignored her, and then turned back
to Dad, continuing the discussion without acknowledging her
presence.

She had heaved a frustrated, exaggerated sigh
and stomped from the room.

Later in bed I tossed and flipped like a
captured fish until sleep snuck up from behind.

Layla, I need to show you what happened, who
I am, who you are. I won’t let them hurt you like they did me, like
they did Jonathan. Come, please.

Then the bad men chased us, and she was on
fire, running to the cliffs while I dodged long sweeps of the sword
blade, working feverishly to slice me in to pieces.

Help, please! I can’t fight. I can’t
fight!

My eyes opened, and it was clear. The answer
was in the letter. But whether I had the courage to face it was
another matter.

The dull morning glow tempered by the
colorless sky woke me gently, my head once again struggling to
comprehend where I really was, and what had happened. Sitting up, I
wanted to scream – so instead the sobs came. And in the familiar
state of my loneliness, the tears streaked my face surrounded by
the stillness of nothing and the realization...

I was completely and utterly alone.

CHAPTER FIVE

Andre picked me up in a brand new black
Jaguar XK, wearing expensive designer threads and a silver scarf
that kicked his eye color up a few notches. His smile was broad,
his assessment of me approving. “Hhmm. Even better than I
imagined.”

My hair was pinned up, with a few loose curls
falling randomly for glam affect. The only black dress I owned was
thankfully long sleeved, albeit it short with an exposed back, so a
long coat was necessary. I had worn it one time to a Seahawks party
with Dad. There was no way to wear my preferred tights with the
pumps, so I was relived when Andre turned the car heater on.