Fly: A PORTAL Chronicles Novel (The PORTAL Chronicles) (4 page)

“Want my jacket?”

I turned. An extremely gorgeous guy with shaggy blonde hair stood in the line next to me. He held out a black zip-up hoodie.

After embarrassing myself earlier by my presumptuousness, I looked around to make sure it was me the Abercrombie model look-alike was talking to before awkwardly replying, “No, but thanks.” I again found myself regretting my lack of knowledge concerning teenage protocol.

“We’re bound to be here a while and you’re shivering like a leaf.” He smiled, flashing perfectly straight, white teeth. “Please. I insist.”

Are all Brightman guys gorgeous? First, Grumpy Pants Jerko Bazerko and now Abercrombie Guy?
A quick glance around proved this theory false. I had simply been blessed by the gorgeous guy gods.

“Now you’re running the risk of hurting my feelings.” Something about his eyes made me feel perfectly at ease. Or maybe it was his voice? Regardless, I was transfixed.

Realizing I had left him hanging while lost in thought, I quickly shrugged into his hoodie. Though huge on me, it was soft and warm. “Thanks,” I smiled, instantly feeling better.

“Your welcome—” He cocked his head to the side and waited.

“Sophie Cohen,” I answered. Before I could think better of it, I again found myself extending my hand. I was about to slip it into my pocket when Abercrombie Guy grabbed it.

“Hagen Dibrom,” he replied, shaking my hand. “It’s a pleasure.”

“You too, Hagen.” He held my gaze for longer than was comfortable, but I couldn’t manage to look away. My cheeks grew hot. “How long have you been attending Brightman?” I nervously asked and he released me.

“I’m new. My family just moved here. I’ll be a senior this year.”

“Wow. Spending your senior year at a new school must be a bummer.”

“Well, it was,” he said, running his fingers through his hair in true gorgeous guy form. “But things are starting to look up.” He shot me an unmistakable look.

I fidgeted, regretting my lack of social grace. Dad was right about yet another thing: only associating with him, his work buddies, and his grubby master’s students had done me a disservice. I made a mental note to Google “Flirting for Dummies” as soon as I found time alone with an Internet connection.

“Well, take it from me: I’ve moved a lot growing up, and I still haven’t mastered starting a new school or making new friends. All the schools — and all the people in them — are different, so the experience is never quite the same.”

“Why have you moved so much?”

“My dad’s job. He’s a nuclear physicist. We move every few years or so to whatever university is funding the latest, greatest scientific research.” I caught myself. “Well, we did. Until he sent me here.”

“I see. So what put him over the edge?” he asked, sizing me up with narrowed eyes. Noticing my confused look, he clarified, “Drugs? Sex? Alcohol? All of the above?”

“Oh!” I caught on. “None of the above,” I quickly answered. “Quite the opposite. Dad said he wants me to learn to act my own age even if it means getting into a little trouble.” I laughed at how ludicrous it sounded.

“You’re the never been kissed type. So not what I expected,” Hagen mused. My cheeks blazed. “If it’s trouble you’re looking for, I can give you a few pointers. As the saying goes: practice makes perfect.”

“Sophie?” I jumped at the sound of Grumpy Pant’s voice, happy for the distraction. He eyed Hagen warily before saying, “We need to meet Dr. Smitherson in his office. Now.”

I shot him an I-told-you-so look and his eyes narrowed. “Fine. Lead the way.” I started taking Hagen’s jacket off.

“No don’t!” Hagen said. I froze. “While I greatly appreciate watching you undress, you should keep it.” My cheeks again burned. “Retrieving it will give me an excuse to see you later.”

Grumpy Pants was suddenly between Hagen and me. “I don’t think we’ve met,” he said, squaring his shoulders. The two sized each other up. I didn’t know whether to laugh or intervene as they looked like feather-spiked birds before the commencement of a cock fight. Both tall and well-muscled, they were well matched. “I’m Everett Sinclair,” he replied, politely, yet briskly, extending his hand.

So Grumpy Pants knows how to properly introduce himself and shake hands after all. How quaint!

A flash of recognition crossed Hagen’s face. “Everett Sinclair? You’re the kid who… I’ve heard about you,” he blurted, leaving Everett hanging.

Returning Hagen’s death glare, Everett retracted his hand.

Hagen continued, “Some kid was just telling me you… well, I’m sure you know what they’re saying about you.”

I didn’t know what Hagen was referring to, but it was evident the exchange wasn’t friendly. Everett’s eyes were like fire, his mouth a tight line. Feeling the urge to protect him, I stepped in.

“Let’s go, Everett. Dr. Smitherson is waiting.”

Without a word, Everett turned, grabbed two of my suitcases, and marched away.

“I’ll see you later, Sophie,” Hagen said.

Ignoring him, I quickly followed after Everett. Once again I was chasing him. “Everett!” I called. He was already halfway across the room. “Everett!” I called louder this time. He stopped in place without turning. “Everett is your name, right?” I asked, breathless upon reaching him.

“Yeah.” He glowered, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

“Will you please look at me when I talk to you?” I snapped. He looked at me, surprised. Compassion took over and I cautiously put my hand on his arm. “Sorry. It’s been a long day. Are you okay?”

He glanced at my hand and his face visibly softened. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Taking off again, I could barely keep up with his methodical stride. I was tempted to press him on what Hagen had said and why it upset him so, but I kept pace in silence instead.

As I followed Everett through hallway after hallway, I thought over the weirdness of the day. I was hungry and tired and didn’t know how much more I could take. As if on cue, my stomach grumbled loudly.

Everett laughed. “When did you eat last?” He sounded calm again.

“I ate on the plane.”

“Last time I checked, peanuts and pretzels aren’t considered a meal.”

“Yeah, I’ve hardly eaten anything all day,” I admitted. “My stomach has been in knots since my dad told me I was coming here.”

“When was that?” he asked, seeming sincerely interested.

“Yesterday afternoon,” I replied.

“What?” Everett stopped. “He didn’t tell you until yesterday?” He seemed shocked.

“Nope,” I answered, wondering why he cared.

“Wow! I’m sorry about that.” He continued walking at a slower pace. “Want to get something to eat?”

I frowned, questioning his intentions. Was he flirting again or just being nice to the dorky girl? Unable to read him, I lied, “No, I’m fine.”

“But, you just said—”

“I’m fine,” I insisted.

“You should eat something,” he chided. “I know how you get when your blood sugar drops and we wouldn’t want you to implode or anything. Your little outburst earlier was pretty nasty,” he teased.

“What?” It was my turn to stop. I was notoriously grouchy when my blood sugar dropped. My Dad — even his coworkers — knew it. But how did Everett know that?

“I was joking,” he said.

“No, what was that you said about blood sugar?”

He gave me a strange look. “I know how women get when they don’t eat.” Not buying it, I frowned at him in silence. He shrugged. “My mom gets grouchy, so I figured all girls do.”

“Whatever,” I said, letting it go. Though I didn’t know where I was going, I walked ahead of him. “How much longer until we get to Dr. Smitherson’s office?”

“Oh, he’s busy.”

I stopped again. “Then where are you taking me? And why did you imply that he was waiting for us?”

“Did you not notice what a creeper that Hagen guy was? I needed to get you out of there.”

I threw my hands in the air. “This is getting out of hand. I am tired and I’m hungry and I just want to be shown to my room. I don’t want to wait in long lines in freezing cold rooms or chase you through a maze of hallways. Show me where I can wait for Dr. Smitherson and you can be on your way.”

“I was just trying to help. You don’t have to be such a brat.”

“A brat!?!” I gaped. “Well, you’re not exactly the shining star of the welcoming committee. You’re nice one second and rude the next. I’m seriously over your mood swings.”

Everett laughed. “Shining star?” He laughed harder. “—of the welcoming committee?” I glared at him. “That’s the best you can do?” Realizing he wasn’t helping things, he abruptly stopped. “Chill! You look like your head’s going to pop off.”

“Don’t tell me to chill!” I growled.

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Sophie. It’s been a long day for both of us.” I crossed my arms and looked away. “I’m sorry, okay. For everything. I’ve had a lot on my mind today, but it’s no excuse for my moodiness or rudeness.” I looked at him and was surprised to find sincerity in his eyes. “This evening didn’t turn out like either of us anticipated. Dr. Smitherson has your dorm key but won’t be available for a good hour, so let’s make the best of it.”

“Fine,” I relented. “I forgive you and I’m sorry too.”

“You’re fine, Sophie. I know it’s just your blood sugar talking.”

I jokingly shot him a dirty look and he laughed, making me slightly melt.

“Sophie Cohen, would you please do me the honor of joining me for dinner?”

I studied Everett, mystified by how we’d gone from bickering to him formally asking me to dinner, and much more, how I didn’t mind the idea in the least. Grumpy Pants was growing on me.

“I’d love to.”

Everett smiled and his green eyes flashed. “Me too.”

Chapter 6

Coincidence

I again followed Everett through a maze of hallways, but with the prospect of dinner now in my future — with a very cute boy, no less — I didn’t mind anymore. Instead, I used the time to study Everett and try to figure him out.

At first glance, he was blatantly attractive. From his tousled, preppy-boy hair to his piercing eyes and full lips, he was perfectly handsome. But there was something more than his exquisite exterior that appealed to me.

Falling back a bit, I watched the methodic swish of his rhythmic step, his muscular arms pulling my suitcases along behind him. There was an innate regalness in which he moved — a subdued pride, like he knew himself well and was proud of who he was. If it weren’t for the slight slump of his shoulders and the way he sighed every so often, I might have mistaken it for arrogance. But no, Everett seemed troubled, and being a problem solver at heart, I wondered if it was this underlying dilemma of his and the challenge of figuring out what it was and how to fix it that truly attracted me.

The notion was odd for knowing Everett for such little time, but I found myself already caring for him. Then again, we had already weathered our first fight and makeup — a milestone in any relationship — leaving me feeling more comfortable around him now. If I hadn’t scared him off already, I doubted I was going to.

“I’m surprised you apologized,” I blurted, appreciating the freedom I felt with him. “I’ve met a lot of people and you’re rather unique.”

Everett warmly laughed at my assessment, as if in agreement. “Sometimes, it’s best to eat your pride and apologize. Life is too short to waste time on grudges or anger for long.”

I eyed him, impressed. “Unpredictable
and
wise.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He smiled. “I’ve just had a lot of life lessons learned the hard way.” I was about to ask him to elaborate when he said, “Here we are.” Reaching an elevator, I noticed there was no up or down button but a keypad. Everett quickly typed a series of numbers and the elevator door opened. “After you.” He bowed exaggeratedly.

He’s funny and doesn’t take himself too seriously, to boot,
I noted. I stepped into the elevator.

“This is a private system that Brightman staff use to get around campus.”

“And you have access how?” I asked.

“I’ve got connections,” he explained with a wink, resurrecting some of my butterflies from their earlier death. “In fact, we’re going to meet one now.”

Everett pushed a button with a giant “K” and the elevator door glided shut. In only a few seconds, it opened again to a dimly-lit stainless steel kitchen filled with gleaming appliances and shelves polished to a mirror shine.

“Wow!” I breathed.

“Come on,” Everett said. “We can leave your luggage here.” His warm hand enveloped mine sending another flutter through me.

My mind begged to analyze all the possible meanings of our hand holding, but I quickly told myself it meant nothing and concentrated on keeping up as Everett led me through the kitchen.

“Maddy?” Everett called.

“Yes?” a soft, sweet voice answered.

He lit up, pulling me faster. “I can’t wait for you to meet her. She’s my favorite girl at Brightman.”

I was surprised at the surge of jealousy that coursed through me then.
Maddy? His girlfriend? It has to be. Why else would Everett be so obviously smitten? The kitchen must be their secret meeting place. Why did he drag me here?
I longed to disappear as images of famous models and actresses flitted through my mind, each more beautiful than the next.
A guy like Everett would only date a perfect, gorgeous girl like that. Maddy must be exquisite.
But my renderings didn’t matter as I was about to find out for myself.

“Maddy!” Everett exclaimed, loosing my hand to run to her.

My heart fell. I looked up wondering what burgeoning beauty I’d behold to see Everett swoop an older, pleasantly plump woman into an enthusiastic hug. Though not the vivacious vixen I had pictured, she was beautiful in her own right.

“What a nice surprise,” Maddy said, her round, angelic face aglow with delight. She produced a pair of glasses from her cloud of white curls. “Let me take a good look at you. You look more like a man every time I see you.”

“Maddy,” Everett groaned, glancing at me.

Following Everett’s gaze, she noticed me. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize we had a guest in our midst, and a very pretty one at that.”