This ‘man’ wasn’t human – he couldn’t be. He was too perfect. Is this just a dream?
CHAPTER 1
Rain dribbled from the fluffy dark clouds that blanketed the sky of St. John, Washington. The color tone was a greyish blue on the buildings and cars, and any street walkers were wearing dreary colors that matched the mood of the day. Birds could be seen playing in the different puddles that formed in ditches singing their chirpy songs; the quiet whirr of vehicles was the only other sound that could be heard.
Amongst anyone else, I don’t mind the rain – in fact I love it. Nobody wants to go in the rain so it is more peaceful, quiet. I can think more openly and enjoy the smell of the rain. The pitter-patter against the ground soothes my mind and helps with the public anxiety I suffer from.
I walked alongside the empty wet road with my oversized jacket and rainboots over black skinny jeans. I wrapped my dark blue scarf around my face to cover my nose and mouth and stuffed my blue gloved hands in my pockets. A cool breeze brushed my dark brown hair against my face like pins and needles striking my cheeks, making my hair a nuisance reminding me why I wished I had cut my waist length hair a while ago.
The road here is narrow and slim, with tiny old shops lining each side within a few feet from each other. A small town library is at the end of the road which is where I spend most of my free time. I love the quiet – I enjoy reading mystery and yes, hopeless romance; they are an escape from reality. I have no romance in my life, not that I am not interested, just the one I have had interest in since the third grade has never come around. His name is Drake Martin who came into my life when I needed him the most. He is my best friend, which means I listen to the rounds of the good and bad relationships and I support him either way even though I so badly want to reach out and steal him away for myself. He is the most attractive piece of eye candy I have ever laid my eyes on; stone hard abs that are solid outlined through his tight shirts, biceps so big both my hands can’t wrap around – I know this because from being when either of us are feeling down, we have ‘friend snuggles’ – his neatly cut curly chestnut brown hair that works with the contour and his skin tone and deep brown eyes. Every beautiful girl in this tiny little town have made a pass at him, or at least tried to. All I ever used to study was how to get him to notice me like that, to be attractive enough for him. It took a little growing up and maturing to realize that it was a fantasy of mine and that’s all it ever would be.
The librarian lady, Valerie – Val for short – knows me so well as I make a point to come in almost every day. She waves to me, asks how I am doing and takes advantage of the slow day by going back to organizing the books on the shelves. I head to the back in ‘my’ corner where there is a beanbag and standing lamp; the seat is super cozy and secluded with only two other bags in the other corner so it was rare for anyone to come back here. I placed my jacket down on the beanie and went straight to the isles.
“What do I want to read today?” I ask myself quietly. I’ve read every book in the genres of mystery and romance from A–Z at least two times. I find myself re-reading stories with the main character in a similar love situation as I am in.
Just as I am about to pick out this story about a young college girl who happens to be the same age as me – twenty-two years – and on a journey to find her long lost love from childhood (cheesy, I know), I heard movement on the other side of the isle. I disregarded it at first, even though I didn’t see anyone when I came in I figured they came in after me and I failed to notice. What brought my attention back to the person was their smell. It was like nothing I have ever smelled before. So captivating and appealing, yet a small sense of danger lurked in my throat. Probably due to the effect the smell had a toll on me, lacking control of my feelings which never happens. I realized that I was walking towards the end of the isle, trying to peek around the corner at who it was before it dawned on me what I was doing and stomped my feet to a halt. What? I shake my head. I walk back to the book and scurry quickly to my corner where I am safe and hidden from my own senses apparently, and squeeze myself into the bag.
I hear faint chuckling behind the nearest bookshelf. It startled me a little, before I sat up as tall as I could in a non-supporting chair. “Um, hello?” I question. A dark figure emerges from behind, not quite out of the dim lighting in the corner between bookshelves. I couldn’t make out his face, but I could see the body of a man. He was not standing in a menacing way, just leaning against the wall with his hands in what looked to be his pockets. “Hello.” His smooth, cool tone answered in response. My mind was taken aback from his voice. It was like a music melody – so sweet and flowing even heard from just one word. I shifted the lighting of the standing lamp – like in an interrogation in a dark room with just you and the suspect at the table – to shine directly at him; he was now in the spotlight.
“Yeah, can I help you?”
He shifted, a bit disgruntled from the brightness directly in his face but his smile returned just as fast.
“Do you work here?”
“No. I just know where everything is.”
“A bookworm then. I like that. You must come around often?”
I didn’t appreciate his nosiness.
“Maybe, but not necessarily at this exact location. I go to different places too.” My tone sounded a little rushed and defensive, even though I didn’t mean for it to. He was making me nervous, but how? Why?
“Of course, I apologize for my intrusion. Excuse me.” He frowned then, and turned around quickly walking away.
That was weird, I thought. I hope I didn’t upset him but I think my tone shut down whatever intentions he might have had. That’s it. He’ll get over it. Chances are I won’t see him again. And now I don’t have to go somewhere else, like he’d even check. I laugh to myself and get myself tight and snug in the bag with book in hand until it was time to leave.
