Two

Chapter 2

 

I get the last pair of my sneakers situated in their place in my closet and close the door. It has not taken much time at all to unpack my belongings and put my clothes away. A thrill of excitement bursts through me as I face the empty bookcase and the large box containing my books.

I carefully slide scissors through the tape on the top of the box trying to avoid any damage to my books, flip open the flaps, and smile with satisfaction at the sight of all of my books�"perfectly safe in every way.

My heart skips a beat at the sight of the book on the very top. It’s my mom’s copy of Wuthering Heights�"her favorite book and mine. I gently place my hand on its cover and run my fingers over the worn, well-read paperback. I pick up the book and cradle it to my chest. I miss my mom so much.

Turning it around and looking at the back of the paperback, I run my fingers along its frayed pages. I open it to where my mom’s bookmark is held between to pages, marking her favorite line from the novel. I scan my finger under the line as I read softly to myself, “If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.”

For a moment, I wonder what it would be like to feel a love that powerful. I wonder if my mom ever loved like that.

I place the bookmark back between the pages and carry the beloved book to the bookcase. Figuring out how to arrange a bookcase is never a simple task for me. Every bookcase has its own personality and sometimes it can take me a while before I figure out just what that is.

I carefully place my mom’s novel in the middle of the top shelf and decide to work from there. I pull my books from the box and arrange them around Wuthering Heights. There’s no particular method to the arrangement, I’m just going with what feels right.

After finally getting my books unpacked, I stand back and admire the masterpiece. Every shelf is full of perfectly arranged books. The sight brings a smile to my face.

I turn around and contemplate what to do next. I decide to revisit my closet. I still can’t get over the size of it. My clothes and shoes only take up a tiny portion of it which means I have the possibility to expand my wardrobe options beyond my usual uniform of jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers.

Sure, Cailan. Like you’d ever dress like those other girls. You can’t even walk in heels.

Okay, so maybe not. I am tall and thin, and can probably wear most types of fashion, but my personal style is more tomboyish. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about looking good�"I just don’t understand why anyone would feel the need to prance around in six inch heels all day long. I mean, what do you get out of it?

Blisters and sprained ankles…

Taking one last look around the enormous closet and deciding to save my potential fashion crisis for another day, I switch the light off and head back to the main room where I left my welcome packet lying on the coffee table.

I take a seat in the middle of the plush leather sofa, grab the large yellow envelope from the glass topped coffee table, and open the clasp. I peer into the envelope and see that it’s full of papers. I turn it upside down and dump the contents onto the table. The papers scatter across the slick glass surface.

As I scan through the various pages of information my eyes land on a sheet listing a schedule of events for today. According to this, residence hall check-in ends at 3:30 p.m. and at 4:00 we are to report to the downstair’s office again in order to have our student identification cards made.

Joy, joy. More lines, more people, and I get to take a picture that will be permanently plastered on my I.D.�"looking like I just crawled out from under a rock.

I look down at my watch and see that it is just past four. I guess this means it’s time to get down there. I’m positive there is already a line full of people.

Feeling the exhaustion of the day wearing on me, I peel myself off of the sofa and head towards the bathroom.

I notice that my roommate, whoever she is, already has her things occupying the sink and vanity area closest to her room.

I unzip my small overnight bag and begin to unpack my toiletry items. I don’t really have that much, just a few hair and personal care items, some face and body wash, and what little bit of makeup I actually wear.

Once I am done putting away all of my items, I gaze at my reflection in the mirror. My blue-grey eyes, which are almost too large for my face, have faint smudges of mascara under the bottom lash lines from crying. My disheveled hair has even more layers that have come loose from the ponytail it is in. I look like I feel, emotionally and physically drained.

Pulling a tissue from a box sitting on the vanity between the sinks, I swipe it gently under each eye, ridding them from the black smudges. I release my long hair from the ponytail and run my brush through it, the bright lights above the mirror on the wall make the strands of fiery red, my mother’s red, shine within the auburn.

I take one final look in the mirror and decide to pop a light shade of rosy pink lip gloss on my lips. I have very fair skin, I don’t want to look like a vampire in my I.D. picture if I can help it. I’m hoping a little color on my face will help with that.

I take one final look in the mirror. The small turquoise stone of my mother’s is nestled just below my collar bone. Its vibrant hue is a stark contrast to my porcelain skin. My grey tank top still has spots of dirt on it from moving the boxes. I quickly dust myself off.

Well, this is as good as it is going to get. Maybe the camera will be forgiving.

I make my way back to my bedroom and pick my phone up off of my desk. Quickly checking my home screen to see if I have any missed messages and not seeing any, I shove it in the back pocket of my shorts, grab my keys, and head out of my suite.

The hallway is now empty. I think I may be one of the only freshmen that moved in on this floor. My chucks squeak as I walk down the gleaming marble floor of the hallway.

 I pause for a moment in front of the large mirror on the wall and stare at my reflection. I’ve come a long way since I was that broken ten year-old girl trying to understand how life could be so cruel. The shadows that made their homes under my eyes for so many years have disappeared. The sadness that glossed my eyes�"my old eyes�"has been replaced by something different. Life.

I gently rub the pendant of my mom’s necklace between two fingers as I take one final look in the mirror. I am certainly not the most beautiful girl walking this campus, and definitely not the wealthiest, but I’m here nonetheless. I earned this.

The biggest adventure of my life is here, now. This is where I become who and what I have always meant to be. I’m going to get a great education, get prepared for the profession I’ve always dreamed of, make lifelong friends, and maybe, just maybe, find the guy I’ve always dreamed about. Who says I can’t have it all?

Smiling to myself after that last thought, I force myself to dismiss it. I mean, let’s not get too carried away. I’ve never really had a serious relationship before. In fact, I’ve never been in love. While most of my high school friends were in and out of love on a daily basis, I was more focused on school and sports.

Being in a relationship in high school wasn’t really on my radar. It didn’t help that our choices were limited. The school in Mesa is very small, there were only twenty-one students in my senior class and just over one hundred students in our entire high school. I had a lot of guys who were friends but none that were boyfriend material.

 I turn and head to the stairs.

Making my way down the three flights of stairs and to the lobby of Wheeler Hall, I noticed that things have indeed settled down. There are a few girls standing around chatting with each other, but not anything like the craze that occupied this space earlier.

Passing two girls standing near the stairwell of the basement, I make eye contact with each of them and smile. Half smiles form on their faces but their eyes tell different stories as they silently judge me.

One of these things is not like the others�"and I’m assuming that one thing is Cailan.

I’m really hoping that neither one of those girls is my roommate.

I just need to keep being myself. I know that this won’t be easy. I know that because of who I am and where I come from that I have to fight some battles others will never have to. I need to remember to let my actions do my speaking. Then I’ll see who is leading the pack in four years.

I amble down the stairs to the basement thinking about how long four years really is.

The office lobby, once loaded to the brim with students getting their room assignments, has now cleared out. Sighing with the relief of not having to wait in another long line, I walk over to a table that has been set up across from the office windows.

I make my way towards a middle-aged woman sitting in a chair at one end of the table.

“Hi,” I say, straightening my posture. “My name is Cailan. I here to get my I.D. made.”

“Good afternoon, Cailan. Please take one of these forms and a pen and fill out the required information. Once you complete this form, you will move to the next table where your picture will be taken for your I.D.,” she says with a kind smile and raspy voice.

I pick up the form and quickly scan the room. I spy an empty chair in the corner nearest the stairwell and make my way to it.

After completing the form, I double check it to make sure everything is accurate. I’d hate to get an I.D. with my name spelled wrong. I don’t even want to think about the process it would take to get it corrected. Satisfied that all of my information is correct, I sign my name at the bottom.

I can see that there are a few girls in the line waiting to get their pictures made. I move to join them. I don’t want to be down here any longer than I have to.

These girls. Do they think they are competing in a beauty pageant down here? You can peel the layers of makeup right off their faces. And the tight, mini denim skirts with sky high heels. It’s just a picture. Of your faces.

I bite my tongue and try to stifle a giggle that escapes me at the ridiculous sight. One of the girls turns to look at me. I quickly glance down trying not to make eye contact. I don’t need to make any enemies on the first day.

The line moves and now there are only two more girls ahead of me.

The hairs on the back of my neck begin to rise. A faint tingling sensation runs the length of spine and spiders across my shoulders.

Not again.

Recalling the similar feeling that occurred during my earlier encounter with the ever-lovely Mr. TDH, I freeze. Panic washes over me. I can’t decide if I want to look and find out if he is indeed somewhere here or make a run for the stairs and go back to my room.

Don’t you dare look.

My inner-self knows better than to give that him the satisfaction of knowing that he affects me in some way. But the willpower to resist the impulse doesn’t exist.

I turn around cautiously, not knowing what to expect. My eyes lock on a deep blue predatory stare and a face of stone.

My whole body is screaming at me to run but I fight the urge and hold my ground.

If you can stare, I can too.

His mask breaks.The corner of his lips show a shadow of faint half smile. A dimple forms on his angular face.

The look vanishes just as quickly as it appeared.

His lips become straight, thin lines. His brows narrow.

Here we go again. Are you on your man-period?

He holds his eyes steadily on mine as the seconds tick by, daring me to look away first. I’m locked in a trance that I can’t shake. My lips part as I take in a shaky breath. I swallow as my mouth suddenly feels dry.

His eyes continue to bear into mine. Demanding to see the pages of my soul, demanding dominance.

The silver rings around his pupils flicker faintly. His jaw tenses.

 I must be seeing things. After all, it’s been a long day. But I can’t break away from his eyes.

No, Cailan. You saw what you saw…

“Next,” the man operating the camera calls out.

I don’t hear him. I don’t notice anything else around me.

“Next!” He raises his voice and it echoes throughout the lobby.

Everyone turns and looks at me.

Mr. TDH offers a hint of a lopsided grin, breaking me from the trance.

I finally regain my focus and turn to face the man.

How embarrassing.

“Sorry,” I murmur. I don’t want any more attention on me. I just want to get this done and get away from this basement and that guy. 

I hand my form over to the man and he scans it quickly.

“Is all of the information correct?”

“Yes, sir.” My voice is barely a squeak.

“Alright, Cailan,” he says as he looks at the paper one last time. “Please stand on the small black X, face the camera, and on the count of three I will snap your picture.”

I stand on the X.

“Okay, now look at the camera. Ready?”

I force a smile. After all, I’ll be stuck with this I.D. for four years and I want to remember my first day at Aspen Springs University as a happy one.

The man begins counting, “one, two…”

Goosebumps dot my skin.

“…three.”

I try to hold my smile.

The camera flashes and the picture is done.

I hesitate to leave the X because I know that he is watching me with those eyes.

Starlight on a midnight sky…

All signs are pointing to danger and screaming�"stay away. But here I am, drawn in by this strange feeling and those eyes.

The man looks up from his computer screen and motions towards the office window.

“Go on over to the office, they’ll have your identification card printed and ready for you,” he says.

“Thank you,” I reply wearily. Going back to the office window means walking right back into Mr. TDH’s game.

With a sigh, I turn and head towards the office window.

Mr. TDH is currently flirting with another Barbie doll. She’s twirling her long, dark hair around a finger and giggling about something.

He’s speaking to her quietly with a feral grin on his face. His perfectly white teeth are gleaming like that of a predator chasing its prey. He leans in closer to her, reaches for a section of her hair that’s fallen over her left eye, and very gently takes it and places it behind her ear. He keeps his hand there for a moment, well aware that I’m now in his line. I’m not sure if he’s teasing her or me.

Something flies through my veins and knots in my stomach.

Really, Cailan. Jealous much?

I realize that I am jealous. I have no idea why. I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have his fingers running through my hair, and me to be the reason for that disarming smile of his. Instead, all I get are death glares.

I have officially gone bat s**t crazy.

The girl continues to lean against the counter, doing everything in her power to keep his attention on her.

I take a few steps forward, moving closer to her.

She’s still babbling on about God knows what when Mr. TDH sets his smoldering gaze on me. His eyes slide down the length of my body, slowly and lazily returning to mine.

Starlight on a midnight sky…

I freeze. My breath rushes from me. The unbearable fire of jealously building inside of me is so intense it feels like I may self-combust.

My pulse quickens and my eyes widen as I try my hardest to keep my composure.

The sensible part of me wants to run away as quickly as I can. I know better than to get caught up in whatever this is with this guy. The sensible part of me knows that nothing good can from this. Danger flashes in my mind. 

Danger. Danger. Danger.

The foolish side of me, which just so happens to be the side of me winning the battle, is demanding that I stay. It’s demanding that I show no weakness to his alpha persona.

Those eyes. They’re the ending, the beginning, and the eternity between.

My reverie is broken as the girl, who has succeeded in captivating him, realizes that his focus is no longer on her. She flips her long dark hair over her shoulder and stomps off, her sky high heels clacking against the lustrous hardwood floors. She grabs another girl�"her friend�"by the arm and drags her out of the office and toward the elevator. She offers one last heated glance over her shoulder at the two of us before pulling her friend into the elevator and closing the door.

Swallowing a small gulp, I take another step towards the office window.

Oh, God help me.

Midnight eyes consume me.

 The knot of flames burning in my stomach turns to butterflies as it twists and takes flight throughout my body. My flight or fight response is waging a silent war within me.

 I straighten my posture and slightly raise my chin. I need to prove to myself that he can’t intimidate me.

He stands from leaning on the window counter. My eyes roam the entirety of his lean and powerful body. He is literally the most beautiful male I have ever seen. Tall, at least six foot-four. His inky hair is wild as pieces of it fall over his forehead and shine with hints of midnight blue.

I’m so close to him that I can make out the scrolling script of the words President’s Select written down the length of a navy lanyard he’s wearing around his neck. The badge clipped to it is turned around backwards so I can’t see his name.

President’s Select. So that means he is a student here.

I remember hearing about the President’s Select during my orientation back in June. It is a very exclusive organization open only to top ranking scholars who are upperclassmen. They are the brightest of the bright and perform various tasks across the campus, including helping with large events such as move-in day.

Tall, dark, handsome, and really, really smart…

He crosses his arms across his powerful chest and flexes his muscles. I can see the scrolling edge of the tattoo on his left forearm again.  

Holding my ground, I continue to take in the view that is Mr. TDH.

I imagine running my fingers through that hair.

Goosebumps race each other across my flesh.

“Enjoying the view?” His deep, smooth voice startles me.

S**t.

Opening and closing my mouth, I’m at a complete loss for words. I try looking anywhere but at him. I find myself unable to. My entire being is betraying me.

I try to say something�"to say anything.

I don’t. I can’t. What are words?

He flashes me another feral grin, his midnight eyes gleam in the office lighting. He steps towards the counter and places his hands on his slender hips.

“You know, I’m all for a little show and tell. You’ve just gotta tell me what exactly it is you want to see,” he croons arrogantly as he arches his perfect brow. My eyes betray me and fall to his chest. The soft material of his shirt stretches tightly against his powerful muscles.

Everything. I want to see everything.

“Can I just get my I.D. Please?” I’m surprised to hear that my voice is actually stronger than expected.

Feeling a slight air of confidence in myself for somewhat standing my ground and deflecting his remark, I relax a little. I can do this, I can handle him. I’m one of the most competitive people I know. If it’s a game he wants, then it’s a game he’s going to get�"and I don’t lose.

“Your wish is my command.” I feel the tenor of his voice in my bones.

He turns around and reaches for a stack of printed cards that are laying on a table behind him. Quickly, he scans through them and turns back around holding my I.D. between two of his fingers.

 I think to myself that he should have stayed that way a little longer. A girl could get used to that view.

His whole body tenses quickly. His midnight eyes fall to mine.

“Here’s your I.D., Cailan,” he says, his voice is clipped and angered.

I furrow my brows at his game, determined not to let him get the best of me. I summon whatever little bit of courage I have left.

“How do you know my name? You’ve never seen me prior to today, how is it that you know my name?” My eyes search his beautiful face for an answer.

His jaw tenses as he holds my card just out of reach. His voice is glass when speaks. “I gave you your welcome packet earlier. I have a good memory. Also, your photo is on your card along with your name. It’s not rocket science, Cailan. Let’s pray that’s not your major, or you won’t be hanging around here very long.”

Condescending prick.

Rage boils within my veins and my eyes fill with a fury. His face is masked but the silver rings in his eyes blaze and quickly disappear.

This time, he’s the one who breaks away from the pull as he swiftly glances down, his strong hand pressing on my I.D. as he grips the edge of the counter.

Seeing this as my moment to assert myself, I speak.

“No. No, I am not a rocket science major. I’m an english lit major, but I don’t expect you to understand anything about that. You don’t seem like the type of guy who cracks open a book beyond what’s absolutely necessary, if even then. Oh and by the way, let’s hope your future job doesn’t rely on your people skills because yours are quite atrocious.”

 He can stand to be taken down a notch or two. Or twelve. I revel in the fact that I may have put him in his place.

His hooded glare meets mine, but he remains silent. The hair on the back of my neck begins to rise again in warning. Tiny sparks race up my spine and flitter across my shoulders.

Still reeling in my sudden bravery, I reach out to pluck my I.D. from his hand. As I grab the card, my fingers brush agains the tips of his. I can feel the growing warmth of his fingertips on mine. Something simmers beneath my flesh. His eyes widen and he steps back.

What just happened?

I pull my hand back quickly and examine my fingertips. Nothing. But the feeling the feeling of his touch was anything but normal.

I pick up my card and dare to look back up at him.

His eyes, untamable, challenge me. The blue in them has become clouded making them appear almost black. The silver rings are a striking contrast to his inky irises.

His powerful arms hang at his sides as he clenches his fists together tightly, making the lean muscles of his forearms flex and ripple.

When he finally speaks his is voice deep, demanding, and emanating with alpha power.

“Let me give you a piece of advice. You may be intelligent enough to attend a university like this, but don’t you ever assume you know anyone’s story. Nothing and no one are ever what they appear to be. It will do you good to remember that. Keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll find out very quickly just how serious I am. You have no clue what you’re walking into. If I were you, I’d take great concern in I converse with. Danger is always lurking just under the surface. Be very careful, Cailan.”

His words throw me. What the does any of that mean�"is it a threat of some sort? Is he the danger he warns about?

I try to wrap my mind around his words but every time I do, more questions arise. I need to get out of here�"now.

I don’t speak to him and I don’t give him the chance to say anything else. I shove my card in my back pocket and make a run for the stairs, not caring who is watching me at this point. I just have to get out of here�"go anywhere.

I sprint up the stairs to the foyer of Wheeler Hall.

Finally reaching the polished marble floor of the foyer I stop to catch my breath and gather my thoughts. A few girls, who are heading into the dining hall, gawk at me as they walk past.

 Judge me all you want. I don’t even care. I rest my head against the cool glass of a window.

More questions cloud my mind. Why is this happening? What is even going on? Why would he say that? None of it makes sense.

 And that feeling.

I close my eyes, let out a deep breath, and try to gather my thoughts. All I see are midnight blue eyes bearing into me, demanding me.

My eyes fly open.

Why can I not shake this guy? It’s like he’s seized every part of me. Invaded every nook and cranny. Left his mark on every page.

Even when I’m not physically near him, I can’t seem to get away from him. Maybe I should just pack it all up and go home. Maybe this isn’t the place for me.

I tell myself that it will be all right. I’ve handled much worse in my life than that guy.

Right. I’m right. I can’t let him and his cryptic warning keep me from living my life and enjoying college. I’ve worked way too hard and sacrificed way too much of myself to make this dream even possible. I just need to forget about him. For crying out loud, I don’t even know his name. How can I let a complete stranger run me off?

I straighten from my position on the window, remove my hair tie from my wrist, and pull my hair away from face. Fresh air. I need fresh air.

 Remembering that I still have some of my belongings in my car, I head towards the glass doors of Wheeler Hall.