Epilogue Part 2
AUGUST
The past
It’s the Friday before winter break and everyone on campus is antsy. Anxious to leave Lancaster Prep and return home to celebrate the holidays with their families. Go on glamorous vacations to exotic places and spend all of Mommy and Daddy’s money over the next two weeks.
Meh.
We’re going home, Iris and I. Another boring holiday season at the Lancaster household. Quite frankly, I’m getting too old for this shit. Spending the holidays with my cousins who are all younger than me and giant pains in my ass sounds like my own personal nightmare. I’d rather go on one of those vacations I see so many other people do. Maybe skiing in Switzerland. Christmas in Paris. New Year’s in London. Anywhere but my parent’s house.
But alas, I’m stuck doing the family thing.
It's early in the morning as I make my way across campus. Class hasn’t even started yet and I’m headed to the dining hall, too keyed up to sleep in like I’d planned. I enter the dining hall to find no one is in there save for one, singular person.
That pretty little freshman who I love to give endless shit to.
I don’t even know her name, but there’s something about her I can’t resist. Maybe it’s her light brown eyes. The way they happen to somehow glare at me yet also eat me up every time she looks my way. I can feel her hatred for me every time we’re close to each other, but there’s something else there too. Simmering just beneath the surface.
Heat. Attraction. Chemistry. Whatever you want to call it, it’s hard to ignore, though I do my best. I push past the unfamiliar feelings swirling within me as best I can because come on. She’s a baby. Only fourteen years old. I touch her and my ass can go to jail.
No thanks.
She’s not for me. Despite how every time I see her, I feel like I got struck by a lightning bolt, which is irritating as fuck. Reminds me of what my father has warned me about over the years.
Once you find the woman you’re meant to be with, you’ll know, son. It’ll hit you like a lightning bolt. You’ll be struck dumb and you won’t be able to see or think about anyone else. Just her.
Unfortunately, that’s how I feel about this…little freshman who hasn’t quite grown into her body yet. She’s all arms and legs and those atrocious braces on her teeth. She tries to put on makeup but it’s either too much or not enough. I swear every time I see her walking, I worry she’s going to trip over her own feet, her movements are so damn awkward.
The moment her gaze finds mine, I see the disgust appear on her face. Accompanied by a fair dose of interest. Without thought I approach her, only stopping when I’m standing directly in front of her, my gaze scanning her from head to toe.
Still the same girl with the long arms and legs. The flat chest and not a single womanly curve on her body. She’ll be a beauty someday though. I can guarantee it.
“You’re up early,” I tell her, my voice sharp. I lose all patience when I deal with her, mostly with myself, though I always take it out on her.
“Couldn’t sleep.” She shrugs. “I’m excited to go home.”
I blink at her, unable to form words which is so fucking annoying.
“And nervous,” she adds, her lips curving upward. Revealing that the braces are gone. Blinding me with that beautiful smile.
Shit. I can’t acknowledge that I noticed the change. To do so would be to admit that I pay attention and with my reputation, I’m not supposed to notice anyone.
They’re all supposed to pay attention to me, not the other way around.
“Why are you nervous?” I ask, too intrigued not to question her.
“I don’t get along with my parents that well. My mom can be…a lot.” She shrugs, and I can tell she doesn’t want to talk about them. “What are you doing over the holidays?”
I peer at her, concerned. “Have you lost your mind?”
She rears back a little. “Why do you ask?”
“You’re willingly making conversation with me.”
“Oh.” Her smile returns and I look away, unable to take the sight of it. “I guess I’m feeling the holiday spirit.”
“Isn’t that generous of you.” I hesitate for only a moment. “I’m skiing in Saint Moritz.”
The lie drops from my lips easily and I don’t know why I say it. Am I trying to impress her? Why do I give a shit what she thinks about me?
“Fancy.” She has the audacity to roll her eyes and turns away, her back to me as she calls, “Merry Christmas, August. ”
“Merry Christmas…” My voice drifts. “What’s your name again?”
She glances over her shoulder, a mischievous gleam in her eyes that makes my body react. Which is fucking out of hand because again, she’s only fourteen. I’m not interested in her. Not like that.
Not yet, anyway.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she singsongs as she walks away, her skirt swaying. It’s shorter than what’s considered proper dress code, showing off those long, slender legs and I have an unbidden thought.
Of this girl, only she’s older. Beautiful. Fucking stunning, truthfully. Flirtatious and with a smart mouth. I love it when someone doesn’t back down from me, which isn’t often. I imagine this girl will be feisty when she gets older. Not afraid to speak her mind. She’d give as good as she got.
Maybe, hopefully we’ll run into each other again someday. Years from now. And if we do?
She’d better watch out.