She waved her hand in a shooing motion, and her tank strap fell down her shoulder, revealing an emerald-green bra strap bright against her golden skin. Suddenly, her eyes weren’t the only thing intriguing about her.
Forcing myself not to stare for more than a second, I raised my gaze to meet hers as she yanked her strap back up. “For the record, I agree with your dad. I know all about what teenage boyfriends want to do, and he was right. No sleepovers.”
“Apparently, my boyfriend agreed too. So there you have it, Mr. Know-It-All. It’s been nice knowing ya.” She shoved her phone in her purse and stood to go.
“It’s Price,” I called after her as she hurried to the door.
Price
“How was your day, Mr. Price?” George, a different doorman on shift, greeted me by the name I’d finally trainedthem all to call me.
“Interesting, more so than most,” I said, tossing him a crumb.
“Really? You don’t say.” He stared at me, his right eyebrow raised.
“Yep,” was all I gave up while pushing the button to call the elevator.
I’d ended up being fifteen minutes late to my next class after exchanging verbal jabs with the chick in the coffee place. Something about her took up residence in my mind.
She was a deadly combo; one I’d never come across. Confident, yet not entirely so. Bold, but not always. Young and wise—somewhat. She was a confusing blend of contradictions, like an injured bird and a deadly stallion. Remember those tube-shaped kaleidoscope toys from when you were little? You’d squint, look into the small peephole, and see a myriad of geometric shapes and colors morphing into some strangely obscure pattern. That was my mysterious girl to the naked eye.
I literally shook my head trying to clear any thoughts of her, annoyed that I didn’t even get her fucking name.
Upstairs in my apartment, I tossed my backpack on the couch and opened the fridge to snag a bottled water and an apple. After kicking off my shoes, I plopped on the couch, my jeans sliding on the leather.
“I hate this shit,” I mumbled to myself.
Freaking expensive leather and fancy rugs. My body craved the smell of hay and fresh-turned earth. Crunching on the apple, I pulled out my phone and texted my mom.
Hey, Mom, how’s it going?
Immediately, the dot-filled bubble appeared. We might have to drive to Hershey for a mall, but we do have Wi-Fi and iPhones on the farm.
Taking another bite of my sorry excuse for an apple, I waited for my mom’s reply.
All good here. Bruce is busy getting ready for the apple-picking season. There’ll be lots of field trips. How’s the big city? School?
I felt my cheeks puff out with my long sigh.
City is strange as usual. School is good. Classes are okay. Wish I was there to help. You good? Taking care of yourself?
Don’t worry, I’m good. Moira is going to help on weekends in September. You do your thing.
That’s the point: this wasn’t exactly my thing. It was my father’s thing, a man I never knew. How could he know what I wanted out of life? And where the fuck had he been all these years if he was so concerned about me?
As if my mom could read my mind, she texted again.
Your dad, whether he was around or not, wanted this for you. Take it.
That had been my mom’s position since the asshole showed up in the driveway, waving the promise of a degree like holding a bone in front of a dog’s nose. Except, my mom was the dog, not me.
“I know you love to read, and not some bullshit graphic novels. You like to write and have a mind for business,”my father had said confidently, like he’d witnessed this all firsthand. Which he most certainly hadn’t.
I’d given my mom the side-eye for even speaking my name, let alone sharing my interests with this man. Clearly, my parents been in touch without my knowledge, which was a swift punch to the gut.
“Christ, Price, you don’t want to be stuck here on the farm for the rest of your life,” he’d said. “Be a filmmaker, an Indian chief, a journalist who travels.”
I’d stared at the man, not able to conjure up one inkling of similarities between us, other than I could see where my olive skin and thick, dark hair came from. Otherwise, absolutely nothing called to me from this man.
