FEARLESS: The King Series, Book One (9 page)

“As a matter of fact,” she continued, “I really don’t deserve how well they treat me. I pretty much blew them off last year when I started dating Nick.”

I cast my mind around, trying to place Nick. Seeing my frown, Anne laughed joylessly. “No, you don’t know him. He graduated last May. Made me all kinds of promises, how we were going to stay close, stay together when he went off to Florida State. Then the second weekend he was there, he wrote me a Dear John email.”

The pain and hurt rolled off Anne in strong waves. My heart ached for her.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured.

“Yeah, well… that’s how it goes, right? I should’ve seen him for what he was. All my friends did. Jim—” she was referring to another one of our lunch table crowd “—told me right off that Nick wasn’t good enough for me. He knew he was a user, he said. But I’d never had a boy pay attention to me the way Nick did, so I told Jim to mind his own business.

“They never said I told you so. When I came back this year, and I knew Brea had told them everything that had gone down with Nick, no one said anything. Michael punched me in the arm and asked when I was coming back out to the nursery, and Dan teased me about something…” She frowned a little, remembering. “Only Jim isn’t really the same anymore. He still kind of treats me… differently. I don’t know, maybe it’s just my guilty conscience!” She gave me a half smile.

“Everyone at the lunch table has been really nice to me. I don’t know them that well, but they’ve all been kind. I think it’s because of Michael.”

Anne smiled at me. “Maybe when he first brought you over, but I think they like you now for who you are. Even though it’s only been a few days, we can tell. Plus, Michael likes you. We’ve never seen him this way about a girl, ever. And believe me, there’s been plenty of opportunity.”

“Really?” I was quite curious about this.

“Oh, yes. Haven’t you noticed the glares you’ve been getting from a large segment of the senior girls? All these years they’ve been flattering him, following him around, making eyes at him… and you come in and have him in a day—with not that much effort.”

“Try no real effort,” I muttered.

“What was that?” Anne asked.

“Nothing. What about Nell Massler? Was she ever after Michael?”

Anne wrinkled her forehead, thinking. “No… not that I remember. Nell has always been sort of an anomaly, if you know what I mean. If everyone else was doing it or liked someone, Nell didn’t. She’s definitely more of a leader than a follower. And she’s a major pain in the neck,” she added. “None of us can really stand her. She surrounds herself with girls who think she’s amazing, and every now and again she chooses some boy to date. It never lasts, but it gives her someone to take her to dances or whatever. Last year it was Kyle Dannon. He stuck with her longer than most of them. Then she got all involved in that chemistry club stuff and the new teacher, and she dropped Kyle because he said the teacher gave him the creeps.”

Ah. Some pieces were beginning to fall into place for me. It wasn’t a surprise that Nell and Ms. Lacusta were pals—or at least that Nell saw things that way. It fit with the vibes I’d gotten from both of them in class.

“Well, I don’t think I have to worry about Nell in that way. She hates me. I don’t know why. I haven’t done anything to her.”

Anne nodded. “Nell’s always been that way. If she takes a dislike to someone, it’s not pretty. And sometimes there’s no rhyme or reason as to why she doesn’t like a person. She used to target girls in elementary school and junior high—and it was ugly.” She shuddered slightly. “She never bothered with any of us—we were older, we didn’t much care—but the girls in her own class and below—oooh. I used to feel so sorry for them.” She looked at me with a mix of sympathy and compassion. “I hope she gets tired of picking on you soon. I’d tell you to just ignore her, but the normal stuff never seems to work with Nell. There’s a girl in your class—Amber Cole—Nell started harassing her in grade school and never stopped.

“I’d love to see someone stand up to her,” she finished, looking at me hopefully.

I laughed without much humor. “I don’t think it’s going to be me,” I told her. “My mind doesn’t move as fast as hers does. And you’re right—she’s nasty.” I shared my tripping story from History.

“That’s classic Nell,” Anne said. “And it’ll escalate until she finds someone else or gets bored.”

“I’m hoping for the boredom,” I replied, standing to stretch. “I think my mom has chocolate chip cookies she made yesterday in the kitchen. Are you interested?”

“Chocolate? Cookies? I’m in,” Anne rolled off the bed to stand. “I shouldn’t. I can’t carry it like you can—they’ll show on my hips in five minutes. But who cares? You only live once.”

I really love shopping with my mom. We work well together, and we know when to team up and when to split off. We found several sales racks full of cropped pants and capris, and I was able to choose a few serviceable zip up sweatshirts and jackets.

But my nerves about the afternoon were playing havoc with my good time in the morning. The whole time we were out, I was fidgety. In the dressing room, my fingers fumbled with buttons and zippers. I tried not to snap at my mother as she wandered through aisles and flipped hangers along a rack. I even let down my guard to probe her mood a bit, trying to gauge how much was real desire to shop and how much was deliberate dawdling. Her vibes were serene, which irritated me all the more.

Finally, she looked up at me, smiling as though she were oblivious to my impatience. “Well, are we done here? Do you think you’re set?”

I tried to keep my voice light. “I think so.” And so we were on our way home.

Once there, I grabbed my bags and flew to my room. I dropped my purchases on the closet floor and grabbed the outfit that Anne and I had selected. Somehow everything was pulled together before Michael arrived in front of the house half an hour later.

He came to the door this time, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with the words SAWOOD NURSERY splayed across it.  He smiled when he saw me at the door.

“Hey! You look great. I guess you and Anne had a good time?”

“Thanks, and yes, we did. It was so much fun.” I could feel ebullient waves of excitement bouncing off him. “So did you try to prepare your parents to be disappointed? Did you tell them maybe your earlier descriptions weren’t so accurate?”

Michael rolled his eyes at me. “They’re excited about meeting you. I told them you were nervous, and I think they found that endearing.”

I groaned. “Oh, great.”

“Tas? Is that Michael?” My mother appeared. “Hello,” she smiled in greeting. “Are you two heading out now?”

“Yes, if that’s okay.” Michael addressed my mother with a mix of respect and deference. “And my mother wanted me to ask if it was all right for Tasmyn to stay for dinner tonight—that is, if you want to?” He turned to me, and I nodded, glancing at my mom expectantly.

She hesitated only a moment before nodding her approval. “But not out too late, please,” she added.

I called good-bye to my father, kissed my mother’s cheek quickly and pulled Michael out the door before there could be any more small talk.

As he got into the car, Michael looked at me and laughed. “You look like I’m carrying you off to your execution.”

“No, really, I’m looking forward to it,” I assured him. “We’ll hang out at the nursery, and I’ll get to see where you live. It’ll be fun.”

“Keep saying that, maybe you’ll convince yourself.”

“Tell me about your parents. I want to know what to expect.”

Michael looked thoughtful and then smiled. I could see the love he felt for his mother and father in that smile.

“Well, they’re pretty cool. They love what they do, they love each other, and they love my sister and me. Matter of fact, I was going to tell you their story when we got to the nursery, but it might make you feel better to hear it now.”

“That sounds a little ominous. Don’t tell me they hear minds, too?”

He gave a shout of laughter that echoed in the car. “No. At least not that I know about. Although sometimes my mom makes me think she does.”

I shook my head. “Mine does the same thing. It’s just a mother thing. So tell me the story.”

He glanced at me sideways, and I sensed that he was slightly apprehensive about sharing something with me. “I was going to tell you this the other day, but I was afraid it really would send you running.”

His concern was so sweet that I was suddenly brave enough to reach out to him. I touched his arm gently. “I’m not going anywhere, really.”

Michael smiled appreciatively. “Good. Okay, so you remember what I told you, about when I first saw you on Monday? That I knew, right away?”

I grinned. “I don’t think I’m likely to forget that.”

“I hope you don’t. Well, it turns out it’s actually not such an aberration. It might be… genetic.”

“Genetic?”

He took a deep breath. “Yeah. A family… thing. My mother grew up in south Florida, on the beaches down there. Her parents owned a hotel in Deerfield Beach. When she was fourteen, she went to visit her grandparents, who lived in a small town on the Panhandle. And while she was there, she met a sixteen-year old boy who had spent his whole life in that tiny town. He saw her, and he knew that she was the girl for him. According to my mother, she wasn’t much to look at in those days—all gangly legs, frizzy hair and braces on her teeth—but my father thought she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid eyes on. She thought he was crazy. And don’t get me wrong, nothing happened between the two of them then. The summer ended, and my mom went back to Deerfield Beach.  But my dad knew that she was his future.

“So he got a job, and he worked hard for the rest of his time in high school. And he wrote to my mom. Every day.  At first, I think she was flattered, then maybe a little worried he was a wacko, but he kept his letters pretty light—nothing too stalkerish. And whenever he could manage it, he’d drive down to Deerfield to see her.”

“What did her parents think?” I was imagining the reaction of my own mom and dad under similar circumstances.

“Well, of course, they were worried, but then they got to know him and realized he was steady, serious and sane. My mom’s grandparents knew the family, of course, so that was a help. And after a while, it was just… normal.

“When my dad graduated from high school, he got a scholarship to a small school that specialized in agriculture. It was close to the college where my mom intended to go. He kept working hard, saving money, seeing Mom when he could. When she graduated and started college, they got engaged and when he graduated they got married. After my mom finished college, they moved up here because it was half way between both of their family homes. My dad worked for a local nursery for a while, then they opened Sawood. It’s a play on their names—my mom’s maiden name was Wood.

“So that’s my parents’ story. And I wanted you to know it, because maybe it makes me seem a little less crazy.”

“I keep telling you, I don’t think you’re crazy,” I insisted. “Delusional or misinformed, maybe, but not crazy.”

“Oh, that makes me feel so much better,” he answered dryly.

We had turned off the county highway onto a smaller two-lane road that curved through empty fields and patches of forest. I saw a yellow diamond-shaped sign with a small black figure in the middle of it. Squinting, I tried to figure out what was on the sign.

Michael noticed my attention had been drawn out the window. “What are you looking for?”

“There was a sign—it looked like those deer crossing warnings? But I don’t think it was a deer on this one.”

“No, you’re right. It wasn’t. It was a bear.”

“A
bear
?” I squeaked in alarm. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. We have bears out here. They don’t bother with us, but we see them from a distance sometimes.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t manage more than that. “So, add something else to the list of creatures lying in wait for me in Florida. Alligators, deadly snakes, and bears.”

“You forgot Nell,” Michael commented. I stuck out my tongue at him, and he grinned.

We were slowing down, and I saw a wooden sign reading, “SAWOOD NURSERY”. Beneath the large print were the words, “Landscaping, Retail and Wholesale” written in smaller flowing scrip. We turned at the sign onto a dirt road. Columns of trees surrounded us before they opened into two endless fields, dotted with rows of bushes and smaller trees. I could see several greenhouses in the distance.

“Wow,” I breathed, “this is huge.”

Michael looked around as if seeing it for the first time. “The original nursery was smaller, but when some land next to us went up for sale, my parents bought it. We expanded about eleven years ago.”

The dirt road ended in a parking lot that backed up to two buildings.  Michael pulled between the buildings and followed a smaller driveway into the woods, which opened to reveal a log cabin.

“We’ll park here, but we’re not going to the house yet,” he announced to me. “My dad is in the fields somewhere probably, but I think my mom should be in the shop or in the greenhouse.” He paused before opening his car door. “Tell me the truth. Did I spook you with the story about my parents?”

I thought about it for a few minutes before answering. “No, I don’t think so,” I said slowly. “It does make me wonder, though.”

“Wonder what?”

“Well, I assume you grew up hearing the story about your father and mother. So what if… maybe in some part of your mind, you
expected
it to be the same for you. And then your subconscious just played into it.”

I expected him to vehemently deny this idea, but instead, he seemed to consider it. For the space of several heartbeats, fear gripped me as I wondered why on earth I had mentioned this possibility. After all, what if he decided I was right? In my terror, I slipped down the wall and listened to him.

No, it’s not just subconscious expectations. Doesn’t she think I wondered about that? But how to convince her it’s real, that’s the problem. How to make her see that we belong together no matter what happened to make it that way.

Relief washed over me. He wasn’t thinking of a way to let me down easily.

“A couple of things wrong with that theory,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “First, let’s say I did expect it to happen to me the way it did with my dad. I haven’t exactly been a hermit all my teenage years. I’ve met girls. I’ve even kind of liked some girls. Nothing serious,” he assured me quickly. “But still, I thought some girls in school were pretty or were fun. So if I were looking to be like my father, why wouldn’t my subconscious have jumped on the bandwagon at that point? Actually, that would have made more sense. I knew those girls better than I knew you. Some of them I’d known since kindergarten. Look at Anne, even. Why not her?

“Second, and you didn’t know this, so I can’t blame you for thinking the way you did, this isn’t just a two-generational thing with my family. It actually goes pretty far back.”

“What do you mean?” Now it
was
beginning to sound strange.

“Before my dad met my mom, his father, my granddad, had experienced something very similar with my grandmother. They met and married within a week. They celebrated fifty years together last spring.

“And
his
father, that would be my great-grandfather, saw his wife-to-be across a crowded ferry boat. He lost her when they were getting off the boat, and he waited at the dock every day for three months until he found her again. They were married a month later.”

“Aren’t there any exceptions?” I asked curiously.

“I have a great uncle who never married. He says it’s because he still hasn’t met the one yet. He’s sixty-four years old. Still looking for her every day.”

“So… you’re saying that if by some twist of fate, my father’s company hadn’t moved us to Florida, you would live out the rest of your life single?”

Michael was very serious as he took my hand. “If I hadn’t met you, yes, I would still be waiting. I have to believe that there’s something bigger than fate controlling this, though. I have to believe that if you hadn’t moved down here, we would’ve ended up at the same college or met on a trip somewhere—something like that.”

I was silent, thinking. Michael released my hand and leaned over to kiss me lightly on the lips. “Come on. My mom probably saw the car when we went past the greenhouse and she’s in there thinking I’m taking advantage of you back here.”

“Really?” My face flamed, mortified at the thought Michael’s mother thinking we were doing anything inappropriate in the silence of these woods. But Michael just laughed at me. He slammed his own door shut and then came around to pull me out of the car.

“I’m just teasing you. She won’t think that at all. She’s going to love you.”