Your Gravity: Part One (2 page)

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Authors: L. G. Castillo

BOOK: Your Gravity: Part One
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Chapter Two

T
he dream began like always
: flashes of colored lights, the smell of popcorn and cotton candy in the air, and him. I didn’t know who he was, and I could never see his face, no matter how hard I tried. There was only the rumbling sound of his laugh, the feel of a muscular arm around my waist, and the feather-light kiss on my forehead. When I tried to look up to see his face, he and the crowds around us disappeared, leaving me alone in the shadows. And each time, a cold emptiness filled me. It was so painful that I’d wake up crying out, my cheeks and pillow wet with tears and a dull ache in my chest.

This time the dream was more intense, more real. His voice called out my name in desperation. I ran to the voice, somehow knowing he was in trouble and if I couldn’t reach him, he’d die. I propelled myself through the dark, but no matter how hard I pushed, I was stuck in the same spot. It was as if some unknown force held me back.

I stopped and bent over, pressing my hands against my knees, gasping for air. I couldn’t reach him. I wasn’t strong enough. Then I heard a little girl laughing and calling out my name in a high-pitched, singsong voice. There was a flash of freckles and strawberry blond pigtails followed by a scream.

Dread filled my entire being. Without a moment’s hesitation, I ran in her direction. I sobbed as I listened to his voice and the little girl’s calling for me, begging me to come back to them. I ran harder, but I still couldn’t reach them.

Then there was a loud whoosh cutting off their cries. White noise filled my ears, growing louder by the second. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I waited in the dark, straining to hear their voices again.

Wind slammed against me, leaving me breathless. It was so hard, I could barely hold myself upright. Then I heard it—the sound of a freight train. Slowly, I turned. A bright light flashed and all around me was white. My legs gave out from under me and I screamed.

“Nicole, you’re dreaming again. Wake up, Nicole!”

I jolted up. Strong arms wrapped around me as I gasped.

“What happened? Where am I?”

“You’re in your bedroom at Rainbow’s house. We moved in yesterday, remember?”

My eyes focused and I gazed into Greg’s concerned face. I let out a slow breath.

I was at my aunt’s house in Texas. Today was the first day of college classes. A freight train didn’t flatten me. Now if only my heart would catch up with my brain before it crashed through my ribs and headed for the hills.

“You were having that dream again, weren’t you?”

Greg found out about my crazy dream when we went camping in his backyard years ago. I had woken up sobbing, and he’d comforted me.

Well, that’s not entirely accurate. I had punched him in the nose when he’d tried to wake me. We took turns crying and going through an entire roll of paper towels that night.

“Yeah. It’s been getting worse the last couple of months.”

“Stressed much?”

“You could say that. And the dreams are creeping into my day. I keep having these—what are you doing?”

He held up a finger and whipped out a notepad and pen from his back pocket.

“So how do you feel about that?” He leaned forward in a classic psychologist pose.

“You haven’t even gone to your first psychology class and you’re already diagnosing me?” I laughed.

“Practicing, babe.” He winked. “Seriously, aren’t you taking your meds?”

Reaching over for my backpack, I took out the medication that my mother’s five-hundred-dollar-an-hour shrink had prescribed for me when I’d gone through my Emo phase in high school. Waving it at Greg, the pills rattled in the almost full bottle.

“I hate taking these things. They make me feel funky, and they really don’t help that much.”

“Take them, woman. Those dreams of yours are messing with your beauty sleep. And girlfriend, I hate to tell you this but . . .” He pointed to the mirror across the room.

I was a mess. My hair was all over the place, mostly plastered in wet strands across my face. And something weird was going on with my skin. I jumped off the bed to get a closer look.

“Oh my god! What happened to my face?”

Pillow creases lined bright pink cheeks and there were white circles around my eyes. They were the exact same shape as my sunglasses.

He chuckled. “I think you had a little too much Texas sun.”

“No way! How could I get sunburned so fast?”

“We’re in Texas, remember? The land of y’all. And you, Ms. Albino, need to learn to lather on the SPF.”

I delicately touched my fingers across my face, wincing. “I can’t go to class looking like this.”

I glanced at his smug, yet perfectly tan, reflection. “You were outside longer than I was, why don’t you look like a red crayon?”

“It’s the magic of mineral foundation with SPF and buffing. You can borrow mine if you want.” He gave me his model perfect smile before turning to the nightstand.

“Here.” He shoved what looked like a breakfast taco into my hand. “You look like you could use some food.”

“Greg, I swear, you’re so metrosexual. You wear more makeup than I do.”

“Yeah, but I’m totally worth it. And stop frowning; you’ll get more wrinkles than you have already.”

I grumbled, taking a bite of the taco. I winced at the bitter taste. “What the hell am I eating?”

“That, my friend, is a tofu breakfast taco. I think you failed to mention that Rainbow is a vegetarian. There’s nothing that even closely resembles food in the house. Now hurry up and get dressed. I want to stop somewhere for some real food before class.”

After quickly throwing on some clothes and borrowing Greg’s magic makeup, Rainbow called us into the kitchen.

“What did you do with your taco?” I whispered. I didn’t want her to think we didn’t appreciate her making breakfast.

“I flushed it down the toilet. I think.”

“You think?”

“It wouldn’t die! I attacked it with a plunger though. I think it’s gone for good.”

There was a click and a bright flash.

“Hey!” Greg rubbed his eyes.

“Sorry about that. I forget how these things can blind you.” Rainbow placed a camera on the counter next to a hand-carved wooden box. “I just wanted a picture to add to my collection of Nicole’s photos.”

“You have pictures of me?”

“Of course I do. Take a look.”

The box was filled with photos of me from kindergarten to my senior year. I couldn’t believe my mother had sent them to her. I didn’t even know they existed. I dutifully posed for my school photos every year, but I never saw copies of them. I figured my parents were too busy to care.

“Mom sent these to you?”

“Not really.” She looked down, fiddling with the camera. “I made a deal with her that the school would send me a copy of any photos I requested.”

“I don’t understand.”

Soft brown eyes looked up to meet mine. “Your mother and I were never close, but when I found out she was pregnant with you, I wanted to be a part of your life. She didn’t think I would be a good influence on you because of the way I live.”

I furrowed my brow. “The way you live?”

Greg poked my ribs and gave me a knowing look. It took me a few seconds before it hit me. She played for the other team like he did.

“Oh! I see.”

I couldn’t believe my mother would do something like that to her own sister. She was a classical musician who traveled the world for crying out loud. How narrow-minded could she get?

“I promised her that I wouldn’t sell this to the media.” She held up a picture of my mom wearing a skintight fuchsia bell-bottom jumpsuit. The curls in her permed hair were so tight, it looked like a brown cotton ball on her head. Whoa. This was a side of my mother I’d never seen. She’d die if this ever got out. “I hope you’re okay with that.”

I brushed over the dozens of childhood photos in the box. My childhood. Tears pricked my eyes at what my aunt had done.

Okay? I was more than okay with it. In less than one day, my aunt had shown me more unconditional love than my parents ever had. In her own way, Rainbow had been with me and watched me grow up.

“You’re the best, Rainbow.” I hugged her. I definitely made the right decision coming here.

Smiling from the warm afterglow of Rainbow’s confession, Greg and I drove through the small town in search of a pancake house on the way to campus. With each street we passed, the glow faded and the hairs on the back of my next stood up. It was the same eerie feeling I had last night. Everything looked familiar. The streets, the houses, even the traffic lights. I turned a corner, anticipating that I’d have to stop, and when I did, there was a stoplight. It was like I knew where I was going without having to think about it. It was instinctual.

I wondered if my parents had performed on campus and I was just too young to remember. Sometimes, as a favor to their music faculty friends, they’d provide a master workshop and give a concert for the student body. They rarely did it and if they did, it was mostly at prestigious schools of music like Julliard or the New England Conservatory. I doubted that they’d come to a place like Texas State, especially since my mother swore she’d never step foot in Texas again.

I looked over at Greg, who was fiddling with the radio and grumbling about missing his CD collection. For someone who wasn’t a morning person, he was way too animated as he flipped through one country music station after another.

“Uh! I can’t find a decent radio station. Oh well, when in Rome . . .” He threw up his hands and leaned back against his seat. He sang along with George Straight crooning, off-key of course, about all his exes living in Texas.

Giggling, I turned my attention back to the road and screeched to halt, narrowly missing the car stopped in front of us.

“Damn, woman. Can you get us to campus in one piece? I’m too young and cute to die.”

My heart pounded against my chest as I stared at the bridge in front us. Blurred images sputtered in and out of in my mind like static on TV: Dark, rolling clouds; birds; and tree branches whirling through the air.

Everything began to spin and dread washed over me. I gripped the steering wheel, gasping.

A loud honking shook me awake and the images disappeared.

“Wow! That looks like some accident.” He gazed out the window, seeming to not have noticed my mini panic attack. “Truck versus bridge. Looks like the truck won.”

Taking a deep breath, I gently pressed the accelerator. Every fiber in my being screamed to get out of there, but there was nowhere to go with the bridge down to only one lane.

My breath shook as we inched forward. I brushed my sweaty hands against my pants as I watched the tow truck pull the red truck from the edge of the bridge. Metal screeched as a guardrail broke apart and fell off the ledge, landing with a splash in the river below. A sudden burst of cold hit against my chest, and I bit down on my lip, holding back a scream.

Why was I freaking out?

The moment we crossed, I pressed my foot on the gas and zoomed past the cars in front of me, ignoring the angry honks and waving hand gestures.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” The beating of my heart slowed as the bridge disappeared from view. “I’m just hungry.”

He gave me a skeptical look. My stomach rumbled on cue.

“See?” I plastered on a fake smile. I rarely kept secrets from him, but this was just too weird. It was probably just nerves. I was sure once the first day of class jitters wore off, everything would be back to normal.

I hope.

Chapter Three

I
loved Greg
. He was family. But man, he had the tiniest bladder known to mankind. I knew he shouldn’t have had that second cup of coffee.

I pressed myself against the wall as crowds of students carrying books and backpacks passed. Most knew exactly where they were going. It was easy to pick out the college freshman. They all had that lost, deer-caught-in-the-headlights look, peering at room numbers as they walked down the hall.

Juggling my iced coffee in one hand and a campus map in the other, I searched for the chemistry building as I waited for Greg to come out of the men’s restroom. If he didn’t come out soon, we were going to be late, and I was going to be showing up to class drenched. What was with the lack of AC in this building? I was so sweaty, my sunglasses kept sliding down to the tip of my nose as I searched for the chemistry building.

The campus was huge. I flipped the map over. It took two sides of the large paper just to cover the entire campus. The paper rustled as I rotated it, trying to figure which way was up. I didn’t know why I was so nervous. And it didn’t help that being nervous made me clumsy.

There was a loud ripping sound and a portion of the map fluttered to the floor and disappeared into the crowd.

Great. Knowing my luck, that was the part that showed where the chemistry building was located.

Irritated, I pushed open the men’s restroom door open. We needed to go before I started freaking out again. If I had to have another panic attack, I preferred to do it in a much cooler building.

“Greg! Did you fall in or something? You better not be messing with your hair.”

“Excuse me, ma’am.” A guy wearing a cowboy hat and boots stood at the doorway.

Good Lord, we were so in Texas.

“Sorry about that,” I muttered as I stepped back into the crowded hallway. “Excuse me. Sorry, didn’t mean to whack you with my backpack.”

It seemed like the entire Texas State student body was walking down this hall. And of course, clumsy me made sure I bumped into every single one of them. A couple of students gave me a funny look. I didn’t blame them. It was a toss up what they were staring at—my sunburned face or the long stringy hair that kept falling over it.

Finding a corner with less student traffic, I plopped on the ground and dug into my backpack, taking out my iPod. I just needed to calm down and stop acting all McGrouchy. With earplugs securely in place and Sheryl Crow crooning in my ears, I took a deep breath and searched for a hair-tie so I could put up my hair.

Damn. No luck.

I pulled out a pencil and sighed. It would have to do. Placing the pencil in my mouth, I gathered my hair into a ponytail and attempted to twist it around my finger. Sweat rolled down my face as strands kept slipping.

“Thon of a ith!”

A girl with thick raven hair stopped in front of me and raised an eyebrow at my muffled curse.

I spat the pencil out of my mouth. “Sorry, not you.”

She shook her head and headed out of the building.

Way to go. My first day of college and I was already cussing out strangers.

Placing the pencil back in my mouth, I jerked my hair back, determined to get it to behave. With a quick twist, I jabbed the pencil through the bun and finally got it to hold.

“Yes!” Feeling much cooler, I tackled the map. After studying it for a few moments, I finally found the building.

On the opposite side of campus.

Crap!

I glanced down at my watch again.

Double crap!
Class starts in five minutes.

I jumped to my feet, ready to march into the restroom and drag Greg out, when my face crashed into something hard.

And warm.

Covered with a crisp white shirt.

And smelling oh so sinfully good.

There was something about touching a six—no,
eight
-pack that shut down all sanity. If I had been thinking straight, or thinking at all, I would’ve stopped groping the man and apologized.

Yeah, that didn’t happen.

We were caught in the center of a mass of students. They bumped against me, shoving me even closer to the buff stranger.

Then he touched me.

And there were fireworks and neon lights.

I was on fire with that simple touch, a stranger’s touch.

Yet, it felt so familiar.

His chest rumbled. A deep muffled voice snapped me back to reality. That’s when I felt something cold and wet.

And I remembered I was holding coffee.

Somewhere.

Slowly, I moved back. A dark coffee stain had spread across his pristine white shirt and charcoal gray tie. It was normal for a college student to wear a tie and shiny black shoes to class. Right?

Right
???

Gulping, my eyes inched up from his shoes, pressed gray slacks, and white—though, now mostly coffee colored—shirt.

I paused, studying a clenched jaw lined with stubble, which at any other time I’d find incredibly sexy. I took a breath, bracing myself to look the man in the eye and apologize for the coffee spill and the groping. My breath hitched when I gazed into an exquisite pair of sapphire blue eyes.

Even in your darkest hour, I’ll be by your side, loving you.

The words echoed through my mind, seeming to come out of nowhere. A memory? Something I’d heard on the radio?

My pulse hammered in my ears, and it took everything I had not to lean into him and drown in those blue eyes. He seemed so familiar. I wracked my brain, wondering if I’d ever met him before. Maybe at one of my parents’ dinner parties? He was definitely not the type of man anyone could forget with those broad shoulders, rich brown hair, a stunningly handsome face, and perfectly shaped lips. Lips that were moving.

“What did you say?” I blinked, wondering why I couldn’t hear him.

He scowled, making his face look dangerous and sexy. The pull I felt toward him was unbelievable. I didn’t even know this man and already I was enraptured.

My eyes widened with surprise as he reached out to my face. The palm of his hand brushed against my cheek. His touch was lightning. A surge of electricity surged through my body. My heart went into double time as he leaned closer. I held my breath, afraid to move, as his lips drifted down to me. Piercing blue eyes mixed with flecks of gold held onto to mine. I was mesmerized.

There was a tug on my ears followed by a sudden whoosh as the earplugs plopped out.

“I said, you should watch where you’re going. You’re making me late.”

The sexy stranger stepped back, wiping wet hands on his slacks.

I blinked, confused. Had I lost my mind?
Turn off the hormones and help the poor man.

I fumbled in my backpack, looking for something to help him clean up.

“I, uh, you’re shirt . . . my coffee . . . stain . . .”

“Very good. You’ve managed to identify key components to the consequences of your careless actions.”

Who in the hell did he think he was? I gritted my teeth. Hot or not, this butthead was pissing me off.

“Look, I’m sorry about the coffee. I know I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m running late and—”

“I don’t need nor do I want your apologies. You’re not the only one who has somewhere to be. Students.” Mr. Butthead shook his head mumbling as he marched down the hall.

Ugh! What a prick!

I looked down at the pale yellow blouse I’d carefully picked out for my first day of class. It was dotted with brown spots.

“Great. Just great. Stupid sexy guy with his stupid blue eyes.” I could go back home, change, and miss my first class, or just suck it up and run like hell across campus.

I glanced at my watch.

Run like hell it is.

I charged into the men’s restroom and found Greg staring at the mirror, arranging and rearranging each strand of his already perfectly coiffed hair.

“Hey!” he cried when I dragged him out. “I wasn’t done.”

“Yes, you are.”

“You may be okay with that big ass sunglasses, pencil bun thing you have going on, but some of us like to look our best. And what’s up with that big stain on your blouse. I don’t think I can be seen with someone so scruffy looking.” He flashed a teasing grin.

Growling, I rubbed my hands vigorously through his hair messing it up. “There. Now we match. Now run.”

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