Hanging Pawns (The Fate Series Book 2) (2 page)

“To be continued,” she informs me. “And, Princess, this will be continued. I will meet you in your father’s office. One hour,” she warns me. I swallow hard again. My father stands, without looking at me again, and fixes his jacket. “Don’t make me come looking for you, either.” She stands, her chair making a dragging noise as it slides out from under her.

“Dear…” my father looks over at her when he addresses her. “We have to go. Let’s not waste any more time here,” he says as he looks at his watch. 

The sting of his words hurt more than anything she could ever say. Because, as he always says, “Time is precious, make sure you always keep track of it.”

I won’t waste another minute of my time in this house.

August 19th, 2002

“Events in our lives happen in a sequence in time, but in their significance to ourselves they find their own order the continuous thread of revelation.”

~ Eudora Welty

I’ve been standing in this line for what feels like an eternity, listening to two girls behind me giggle about everything from how the one can’t wait for some guy to ask her out and what she will wear, to how I look like I fell out of a homeless shelter.

Who says someone looks homeless out loud? Clearly the girl doesn’t have manners.

She isn’t wrong though…

My jeans are torn in all the right places, my flip flops worn down so they have that nice groove for my feet to glide into. Like a well-used pillow, my shoes hold their shape, always waiting for me to return. Pair that all with my favorite torn hooded sweatshirt that I was only allowed to wear in the comfort of my parents’ house to work out in, and you have me…

Just
me
. 

My nails haven’t had a manicure in… pfft, no clue, and I can’t remember the last time my hair was done professionally. Isn’t that the nice part about having long hair though? All you have to do is pull it up and no one can tell it hasn’t been cut or styled in ages.

I’m just going to stand here and not care about her words. I’m not here to make friends and even if I was, the idea of being friends with some rich snob doesn’t really excite me. They’re all the same… money, money, money… shiny things… money, money, oh best friend’s boyfriend.

Alright, so I don’t actually know if they’re really like that. It’s just how I imagine them to be.

Anyway, I have goals, and I am going to make sure I reach them. I won’t be that woman who turns around one day only to wish I had done something.

I’ll be the one who does it. 

But for now, I must stand here, trying to ignore them.

My eye is beginning to twitch.

My lips quirk up when I squeeze my eye shut to put pressure on the pulsating nerve.

I should be happy. I’m here, in the beautiful sunny state of California. I mean, I am happy… I just didn’t expect this to take so long or to be stuck next to someone so brainless.

How did she make it into college?

I roll the pads of my toes against the material of my shoes before stretching up onto them to relieve some of the stiffness in my legs.

“So, when is your first official date?” one of the girls asks the other.

I don’t care.

“He said after we settle in, but he’s being weird… even for him.” The other girl makes a childlike pout sound.

Someone kill me… now.

Tipping back onto my heels, I stretch my legs the other way. I would give anything to sit right now. 

“Well, it’s the first day here. Don’t get obsessive.” Her friend tries to give her advice.

This feels like a bad made-for-TV movie.

I twist my head around, making it look like I’m searching for someone I know. In reality, it’s to get a glimpse of the girls behind me. I smile politely when they look at me while their faces turn in repulsion.

Well, I don’t like you either.

I glance around for a person who isn’t there and won’t be coming before turning back around.

She’s pretty but typical. I can tell she comes from money but not much. She’s probably the type of girl who makes it seem like her family is far better off than they really are just to make herself feel better.

How can I tell?

I read a lot… and her Chanel bag is peeling on the edge. I exhale my frustration with standing in this line and about being in front of these girls.

It’s not helping.

Flipping through my papers, I try to adjust them into whatever order will get me out of here the fastest. My glasses slide down the bridge of my nose, adding to my annoyance. I can’t take being in this windowless hallway any longer. The air is stiff, the décor consists of plain tan walls, generic photographs, and fake ficus trees that are beginning to weigh on my nerves.

I wonder if this is strategically done by some psychology professor to see how long students can keep their composure when faced with a mind-numbing situation.

It won’t be long, I can promise them that.

“Excuse me? I think I am supposed to be next.” A man’s voice pulls me back from the brink of insanity.

I look up from my obsessive sorting to see who he is speaking to, when I’m met with the most heart-stopping chocolate brown eyes I’ve ever seen.

I know… it isn’t saying much coming from me since I’ve been in a state of preservation my whole life, but seriously? I thought eyes like his were reserved for movies.

Oh, I probably got you stuck at the state of preservation, right?

Let me explain, that’s what being homeschooled your entire life feels like. I didn’t have a lot of friends as a kid or a teenager… I didn’t have any friends actually. Yes, that means no sleepovers, no mall gatherings, no double dates…

“Are you alright?” His southern accent floats around me and I’m knocked out of my thoughts.

Taking a hard swallow, I glance down at the nametag that has been stuck to his perfectly fitted grey t-shirt, which is sporting some band name or something on it. I try to think of something to say as my eyes unintentionally scan back up his chest, to his neck, then to his strong, set jaw, his quirked mouth, and finally landing back on his eyes.

Umm…

“You’re Andrews… I’m Anderson…” he says, slowly.

The girls behind me begin to giggle.

Umm…

“Oh, I-I… am so… sorry,” I stutter, spilling some of my papers.

Way to go, nerd.

I immediately bend to grab my things. My head connecting with a hard object knocks me backwards, and I lose a shoe as my ass hits the floor. The rest of my papers that were in my arms spill onto my lap, pooling around my legs in an unorganized mess.

Great! Just great!

The girls behind me continue to giggle. “Nice going, Josh.”

Oh good, they know each other. 

My head drops from embarrassment. I reach for my flip flop, quickly pulling it back on before they see the wear marks in the material where the fabric has worn through and the rubber is now exposed.

I look so homeless.

With a heavy sigh, I twist my legs around and sit on my heels to gather up the mess while
still
trying to disregard them.

When I was small, my nanny would tell me that whole stick and stone thing… but she was wrong. I learned if you don’t have thick skin, words hurt more… no matter how much you hate the person saying them.

“The poor thing probably couldn’t believe you were speaking to her,” her snobby friend adds, making both of them laugh even harder at my obvious loser state. “Aww, Raggedy Ann, would you like help?” she asks. “I think I saw your dad somewhere… he’s the janitor, right?” Her head nods slowly as she speaks down to me.

And what if he is? Just because you have money doesn’t mean you deserve to be here anymore than me!

She isn’t worth going to jail for murder over, Mea. 

“I am sorry about that, Darlin’. Here let me help you,” he says bending down again. “Ignore them, that’s what I do.” He hands me some papers. “Pricilla, don’t you have some else’s life to ruin today?” His thick accent lingers heavy in the air as he straightens himself out to glare at her. Without looking away from her, he extends his hand to help me up and continues to speak, “I’m sure there might still be a guy or two left on campus you haven’t given a blow job to or fucked…” His one hand lingers, waiting for me to take it, but I stay where I am watching him glance at the other wrist to check his watch. “Never mind, it’s already ten AM.” He gives a hearty laugh.

My jaw drops, and my brows shoot up to my hairline. I’ve never heard a man speak that way to a woman. Well, not to one like her. I thought men flocked to women like her, falling at their feet in hopes of getting a peek up the whore’s skirt.

“It’s alright.” I brush it off. “Freshman will be freshman.” Ignoring his hand, I plant my hand against the floor to stand up then fix myself.

The shocked gasps of the girls let me know I hit just the perfect nerve.

“We can wait until later. I’m allergic to cheap perfume,” the first girl, who I’m guessing is Pricilla, states, grabbing the other one’s arm to walk off.

Did that really just happen?

“Wow, she’s original.” I shake my head, and my lips pinch together as they twist to the side.

I didn’t think people like her actually existed. I guess my nanny was right about one thing.

Some people are just… assholes.

“And a freshman. Nice call by the way.” He gives a half quirked smile, his warm eyes captivating me as he steps in front of me.

It’s not fair for one man to be this beautiful.

Look away, I command you! Avert your eyes! Right now!

We hold each other’s gaze, silently appraising each other. I can see his future now. He’ll marry a girl like the one who was behind me, they’ll have children, he’ll go off to work all the time, and she’ll resent him. Then one day their stay-at-home daughter won’t be able to take her life anymore and she’ll find her loophole, her escape into a new life. 

“I’m Josh by the way, Josh Anderson,” he says, holding out his hand.

I don’t care who you are… right now you are just one more person standing between me and my exit.

I glance at his hand that lingers in the air, then back to his eyes. 

“I’m, Mea… Andrews.” I give a slight wave of my hand, being careful not to drop my papers again.

He catches me off guard when his hand grabs mine. Slowly turning it, he bends his body to lightly place his lips on my knuckles.

Is he for real?

This must be a joke. I bet he and that girl are up to something.

I knew something was weird about those two. No man hates a woman like her.

A zing of electricity races up my arm until I yank my hand away to stop it.

I’m not here to make friends or whatever that was… I’ve gone this long without needing people.

His attention snaps to my nametag for a second, and he holds onto his half-smile like it’s his signature look.

“So
Mea
… that’s an interesting spelling.” He looks back to my eyes, making it difficult for me to concentrate.

Is it getting hotter in here?

“Oh, yeah, my dad liked it.” I shrug, breaking visual contact to peek around him and check how many people are in front of us.

Two too many.

My shoulders drop with disappointment. “I wasn’t aware that we had to stand in alphabetical order.” I glance back at Josh who is staring at me like I have a bug on my face.

Oh my God, I don’t have a bug on my face, do I?

Clutching my papers I sweep my hand over my face, pretending I’m moving my hair from my eyes. 

Okay, no bug.

Maybe he thinks I’m homeless, too…

Good, stop talking to the homeless girl and turn around.

“We don’t… I just needed an excuse to stand by you,” he admits.

My heart stutters in my chest, but I ignore it.

He must be kidding.

“Cute.” I turn my head to look away from him again.

“I would say gorgeous, but I don’t want to scare you off.” He looks down toward his feet.

My breath stills in my throat for a second, and my lips curl into a smile before I can stop them.

Well, I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself: a man who gets bashful. I imagine this is what finding a unicorn would feel like. I was brought up to believe that men, real ones, didn’t show their emotions. “Just because he is smiling, doesn’t mean he is happy,” my mother would always say.

My head dips to the side slightly to admire the man standing in front of me. Is this fool actually flirting with me? And who flirts with someone they just met?

Okay, so probably everyone, but this is different. Doesn’t he see how awkward this is? Why doesn’t he just turn around and leave me alone?

Time to cut him loose.

“Oh, Jos-”

“So, what brings you out here? I can tell you aren’t from California.” He changes the subject, still looking toward the floor. I don’t understand what is so fascinating down there. It’s not probable a girl has ever turned down this man.

This is going to be a first for both of us… I’ve never had to turn down a guy before.   

“I…” I hesitate, my mind searching to find the right words. “Needed a change of scenery,” I finish on an exhale.