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Once Upon a Dream
Ratings:
526 pages167 hours
Summary
High school graduate, Charlotte Montclair has been dreaming of the same mysterious and charming boy for months now. She has always attributed those dreams to stress and her wild imagination. But when she walks out of her family’s restaurant and meets face to face the boy of her dreams, she can no longer deny that something strange is happening here. All is fun and games as Charlotte starts to get to know Lucas until one day. Whatever made Lucas run away to Charlotte has caught up with him. Now Charlotte is swept off of her feet and into a magical realm where they will unravel the secret that could save them and his family. But before long, they will run and hide for their lives or fall right back into the trap set out to catch Lucas.
Publisher: Lulu.comReleased: Jan 19, 2016ISBN: 9781300608363Format: book
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Once Upon a Dream - XuanSon Nguyen
Once Upon a Dream
Third Edition
Copyright © 2013 XuanSon Nguyen
All rights reserved
ISBN: 978-1-300-60836-3
This work is licensed under the Standard Copyright License
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
1. ...Dream Come True...
Sitting under the stars, bathing in the moonlight, in the middle of thousands of beautiful flowers, nothing could have made me feel so peaceful and happy. Everything looked spectacular: the vibrant colors of the multitude of wild flowers set against the lush green grass, the tall tress dancing to the breeze, the silver light of the moon. The ocean of stars overhead made me take in a deep breath. I laid back, then collapsed into the soft grass, staring at the shining diamonds. Gently, a warm breeze blew over me and I closed my eyes, enjoying the serenity of the valley.
Not long after, though, I heard a familiar chuckle before his musical voice reached me.
Another nightly expedition, princess?
My eyes fluttered open to see his handsome face inches from mine. He was so close, I could see perfectly his smoldering eyes change from indigo to green with amusement. Now, his deep colored eyes were the color of the valley’s grass with specks of gold
sprinkled all over. I never quite got over the breathtaking sight of his eyes, no matter how long I’ve seen them.
Leaning back onto his palms, he watched me sit up.
Would you rather me not?
I asked him.
Smiling, he shook his head. Come with me, I’d like to show you something.
Eagerly, he pulled me gently to my feet and led me away. Along the way to wherever he was planning to take me, he said nothing. Just held on to my hand and walked across the grassy hills. That didn’t particularly bother me for I was not a garrulous person, either. Instead, I enjoyed watching the flowers swaying in the breeze as if dancing to a quiet song of the night. The wind caught in my simple sun dress and flew around my legs, tickling me; I giggled. He turned around to see what I was doing and gave me an amused smile that made my heart flutter. Unlike me, he was dressed more formally, as if he had recently left an important political meeting or such. Although he still wore his black dress pants, the top buttons on his white shirt have already been undone and his jacket nowhere to be found. His disheveled honey brown hair had the appearance of having been purposely mussed to efface any trace of prior formal aspect.
My mind didn’t have the time to think over the strange clothing and hairstyle, though, because he stopped. As far as I knew, this was not any particular place, we were still in that flower valley, but I saw a lake now, a few yards from where we were standing. The water acted just like a giant mirror, reflecting back the sea of gems in the inky sky.
Wait here,
he instructed before dropping my hands, and walking a bit farther away. I watched as he bent down and quickly gathered a handful of wild flowers. He handed them to me when he came back, then cupped his hands in front of us. My eyes wondered from his hand to his face, then back to his hands.
Raising them high into the moonlight, it looked as if he were collecting it. As I watched closer, I could see tiny pieces of silver falling into his palms as the light shone down.
His eyes now gold with bronze specks out of excitement, he turned back to me and poured the silver light into the bouquet.
I had been so mesmerized by his amazing action, that I had not noticed the droplets of dew on the flowers. As soon as the last silver piece touched the droplet of water, he took hold of my hand holding the flowers and thrust it up. The flowers flew up in the air and slowly floated back down, but by the time they reached the grass, I had already seen the phenomenon. Falling from the sky together with the flowers were small round and smooth stones the color of his eyes at this moment: swirling gold with small bits of bronze. To catch one, I just had to extend my hands out.
Lucas, what did you do? This is... wow.
My grin spread over my lips, my mind bewildered. How did you do this?
I asked, taking a step closer to him, looking up into his glorious face.
Reaching out, he stroked my cheek softly with his fingers and smiled. In one swift move, he stretched out a silver necklace in front of me with one of the stones hanging there. I looked at him full of questions and wonder. Without saying a word, he motioned for me to pull my hair away for him to attach the clasp behind my neck. Walking back to stand in front of me, he looked down at me, his eyes returning to their original indigo. Thank you,
I whispered. It felt too quiet and peaceful to disrupt. Slowly, he rested his forehead on mine, his eyes staring into me.
Just believe in magic,
he said simply, his voice low and enchanting. I closed my eyes.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
My hand flew out to knock the alarm clock OFF button. Ugh! Stupid clock. Stupid me. Last night I came back too late from work to remember to turn the darn thing off. No need for it anymore. It was summer vacation. Refusing to get out of bed at this horrible hour, I pulled the covers over my head and willed myself back to sleep.
No success.
Flinging them back, I stared up at the ceiling. Another dream about Lucas. Whoever he may be. Last night’s dream was the fourth this week. What was wrong with me?! To dream of strange, beautiful places, and of an even more beautiful and stranger boy. I used to blame it on Senioritis, a couple months ago, during the school year, when I had weird dreams about taking walks with that same boy. But everything seemed so real, so vibrant and clear. It was almost as if I knew him somehow.
I shook it off. Why am I even thinking about this?
I mumbled to myself. So stupid.
I laid in bed for another half an hour thinking over things. This previous year was my last year of high school. Yep, graduated yesterday with a GPA that made Gram so happy she almost broke me in half when she hugged me at the end of the ceremony. I won’t lie by saying that I didn’t feel enormously proud and happy to have graduated in the top fifteen of my class, but really, that chapter of my life was over, and I would be embarking on a new one comes September. This summer, though, I had plans with Finn’s.
Before my parents passed away, they had opened a small restaurant serving home-cooked foods. The restaurant got the name from me, well, I was the one to be able to name it. Since my parents had insisted on designing the place like something coming directly from one of my books, what better name than my favorite fantasy book? So thus it became Finn’s.
Throughout high school, after they passed away, Gram and I managed the establishment with a few of their old friends. Everyone got around to doing pretty much everything, from being at the cash register, to waiting tables, to cooking. We all moved around to different posts and did whatever was necessary. Most people visited us out of the same bond that kept Mom’s girl friends working for us, and Dad’s college friends helping us with yearly repairs. Most of all our patrons were familiar faces. Occasionally, we would have a traveler passing by our small town and coming for supper and renting a room for the night. Because in my parents’ original plans, we were all supposed to move into those rooms above Finn’s. But Gram and I didn’t have the need of more than our share, so we have three extra rooms to lease if tourists were to need them.
Once the morning rush ended, I slipped into the kitchen in search for something to do. Like for most restaurant, between breakfast and lunch, there is seldom any customers, giving me nothing to do but getting bored. I spotted several cupcake pans and a bowl of batter sitting by the sink. Grabbing an ice-cream scoop, I started to scoop batter into each cup. Barely had I finished the first batch that Betty burst through the doors, her face flushed.
What’s wrong?
I asked, already alarmed by her expression. Most of our employees were over their youthful years, so I was expecting the worst.
Charlotte, we need you out in front. Too many people to take care of. Grab a pad and a pen, you gotta go get their orders,
she said, as she grabbed more menus from the counter.
I quickly got to my feet and followed her orders, but I didn’t understand the rush. So we have more customers, although it was strange, not impossible. And what was the panic about? There can’t be that many people, this was Wildflower Grove, not New York.
It wasn’t until I saw the masses right outside the kitchen that I understood Betty’s baffled expression. People. Everywhere. Some got seats and were already looking at the food, others waited by the entrance, joking with each other. They ranged from all ages, sizes, and shapes. I doubt I ever saw that many people here. A mental image sprung through my mind of a box of sardines. It was so crowded, I had to literally squeeze my way through to get to them.
We seem to have accumulated a little more than we usual do, I’m sorry, ma’am.
Could you come back in an hour, would that work for you? We’re truly sorry.
There’s a waiting list by the entrance, please sign in.
After a while, I managed to reduce the crowd to a more reasonable size, although the other people didn’t seem to mind my alternative: go around town and come back later. While I tried to see the order I would have to go to each table, Caroline and Gram were already busy in the kitchen. All I have to do now is to go take some food orders.
We can’t work this the same way we usually do. Not with this many people,
Betty eyed the unusual crowded room. I nodded, listening to her proposal. You take the right side, and I’ll take care of the left, all right? Table nine and twelve are yours and ten and eleven are mine. Let’s get going.
She clapped her hands together and sprinted toward a large table of seven.
When I turned around to start on my side though, I came to an abrupt halt. I tried to blink to make sure I was seeing what I saw. Sitting at the corner table, a boy with disheveled honey brown hair and a white shirt with two top buttons undone stared back at me with liquid indigo eyes. As he registered my shocked expression, a glorious smile spread over his lips, illuminating his handsome face. Biting my bottom lip was all I could do to muffle my scream when I witnessed his blue eyes change bright green.
2. ...Meeting Dream Boy...
May... May I take your order, sir?
I asked, managing to keep my voice calm. The last thing I needed was to faint in front of an audience.
He glanced at me, hiding a crooked smile, then said absentmindedly, What do you recommend, miss?
Swallowing back my gasp as his familiar voice rang out like silver bells, I took another deep breath. It is quite early for lunch. Would you rather look at our brunch combos?
He looked at me from under those long lashes of his, then
smiled again, giving me the notion that I was missing out on some secret joke. "I am rather happy with the lunch meals, actually. But what do you recommend?" he asked again.
Saying that I was not used to being addressed like that was an understatement. People here were often regulars, never needing me to recommend anything. But I let that pass. The faster I got his order, the faster he’ll leave and I can have my mind back. Leaning closer to his menu, I showed him the various dishes that patrons often order for lunch, not missing the curious glances he threw at me. Once I looked up, I had the slight view of his jade eyes turning sapphire again.
Sounds delicious, thank you, miss,
he said.
I’ll be right out with your drink and salad,
I told him and escaped to the back counter.
As soon as I got there, I let out delirious pants and gasps. Had I gone mad? I asked myself. What had just happened out there? All the while getting his raspberry and lime soda ready, I peeked out into the main room. Betty just took more orders and hustled faster than I’ve seen her. As much as I tried, I couldn’t quite manage to not look toward that back table. He wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. Not that I expected him to, but there was something that didn’t click in my head. The fact that he was the exact image and voice of my dream boy only added to the small conflict storming up in my head.
Charlotte, what are you staring at?
I jumped at Betty’s question. She had just pinned up a few more orders and getting busy with the drinks.
Nothing.
I went back to the counter and picked up the drink and a bread basket. Just not used to so many people in the morning.
Yes, that is very strange. But no time for chitchat right now. We need to get them food before they tear down this place.
She laughed and took a tray with different plates in each hand and went out again. Following her lead, I headed out myself.
This time around, he didn’t give me any particular attention, which I told myself was for the better. I set down his drink and hurried to the other tables. After a while, the routine slowly sank in, and I caught a hold of the motion. The weird thing, though, was that the people kept on coming, blending this peculiar popular brunch hour with the lunch rush. Occasionally, I would see familiar faces coming in, also amazed at the odd crowd.
With all the commotion, I had almost forgotten the guy in the far corner. He must be done with his order now, I thought. On my way to the kitchen to pick up another tray, I passed by his table, noticing him holding on to an old page of paper. He seemed in most concentration, a thin crease forming between his eyebrows. Stop staring! I chastised myself.
During the short three minutes I gave myself to take a breath behind the counter, I finally had the chance to look at the room full of people. Most of them were strangers, but some were our regulars. It was sort of funny to see the town people eye the newcomers, wondering where they had suddenly come from. I smiled at Mr. Roger’s surprised look as he stepped into the door and saw that his usual table was occupied by a family of three children and their parents. Impulsively, I turned the other way to look at my side of the restaurant. An odd fact made me furrow my eyebrows in puzzlement. On Betty’s side, people were sitting so close to each other, it didn’t take much to eavesdrop on the next table’s conversation—yet no one seemed to mind. On my side, more precisely in the far corner, there seemed to be an invisible bubble surrounding the strange and handsome boy. He had all the room he wanted around him, the placing of the tables and chairs didn’t bother him at all, while the rest were as close to one another as on the left side. How did that happen?
Order up, Charlotte!
I turned around and gave Caroline a smile, picking up the trays of spaghetti and steak.
Thanks, Caroline,
I said then hurried to hand the food to the hungry table.
A few people were getting ready to leave, so I ran back to the front counter, by the cash register. Not long after, a man in his forties came to pay, followed by a young woman and her kids.
Great service. Thanks, kid,
the man laughed heartily and handed me the money. When I tried to give him back the change, he shook his head. Like I said, it was great service. Keep the change.
He smiled.
Thank you, sir. Please come back again,
I said.
The rest of the people in line left in similar manners. Each one of them left us ridiculously large amounts as tip, to the point when I felt uncomfortable and guilty. But none of them accepted otherwise. When I finished taking care of people in line, the crowded room had somewhat dissipated to my relief. I collapsed into a nearby chair before my legs gave out. Heaven couldn’t be more wonderful. I sighed out of exhaustion. My break didn’t last very long, though, because out of the corner of my eye, I saw him get up and approach the front counter. Here.
As if an electric current zapped me out of the chair, I jumped up and stood by my previous spot. He was taking his time getting here, not a care in the world.
He handed me his bill and I punched in the ID. When I looked up, he was staring at me with those indigo eyes again, but this time instead of turning green as I expected, they swirled until they adopted a violet tint. Did I somehow frustrate him? I was reading too much into things, getting tired and seeing things that didn’t happen.
I accepted his money without a word and refusing to meet his intense gaze. But that didn’t stop me from feeling my blush creep slowly into my cheeks. Getting the change, I put it forward toward him, still looking down.
Stop the act, Charlotte. You don’t have to pretend you don’t know who I am,
he said lightly, slightly smug.
Excuse me?
It was a wonder I still had my voice. Finally, I was looking at him, recognizing that smile and those green eyes.
Taking my hand—the one holding out his change to him—he folded my fingers into a slight fist, pushing it back to me. You left that last night,
he winked and grinned hugely. I narrowed my eyes, looking at him full of questions. His smug grin still on his lips, he looked down at my closed hand, then back to me. Turning my gaze to my hand, it felt suddenly so important that I knew what was in there, because I was positive he hadn’t just given me back a few coins. I took a deep breath and slowly opened it.
My jaw dropped as I took in the image of a silver necklace with the smooth and shinny stone. A gold colored stone with bronze swirls that matched his eyes as he grinned at my expression.
What...
Now I really lost any sense of coherent sentence structures.
I’ll catch you later,
he simply said, then glided out of Finn’s. Still too dazed, I couldn’t make myself move to catch up with him and demand an explanation. I just stood there, staring at the necklace and tried to understand how that was possible. How such a thing can ever happen unless I was dreaming again. The problem was, though, I wasn’t dreaming. Somehow, that whole episode actually happened. I actually spoke with a figure of my imagination: the boy of my dreams.
Betty and the girls, with only a couple patrons remaining and chatting, came and sat by the chairs close to me. They all looked flushed and tired, but none of them were shaken as I was, I was positive.
Wow, what a morning!
Caroline said, drinking a good cup of iced tea.
Never cooked so many dishes and served so many plates at once,
Gram added.
Crazy morning, huh, Charlotte?
Betty asked, nudging my elbow slightly.
Yeah, crazy morning,
I repeated, my mind not at all in the conversation that soon followed. What in the world did Lucas mean by I’ll catch you later?
I was never going to get through the day in this restless state—I’ll go insane.
No one seemed to suspect that anything was wrong me, except Gram. Should have known she’d be the one to try to pull the words right out of me without even having to do anything. All day, after that terrifying encounter, she’d been giving me these looks, clearly seeing the necklace from my neck, even if hidden under my t-shirt. Every time I started and acted nervous around people, she’d raise one eyebrow and get back on her way. The more I tried to hide, the more she was oblivious to me. Until dinner.
People have come and gone, we didn’t see the same mass of patrons later in the day, and things have somewhat gone back to normal. Although they weren’t. I wasn’t.
Caroline and Betty have already gone home early; Gram loved them as much I did, and after this morning crowd, they deserved the extra hours of rest. With them gone, Gram and I were left alone, as we often are nowadays. After we closed Finn’s for the night, she and I would go upstairs and stay in her room. She would knit and sew, while I did my homework or some other kind of silent activity. Those evenings didn’t exactly scream exciting!
but I enjoyed spending some time with her and see that she was all right. Tonight, however, I dreaded our tea-time
as she calls it due to her habit of drinking green tea and me drinking iced tea.
Gram sat by her fireplace (yes, she actually had one), even when it wasn’t lit, knitting a sweater. Opposite to her, I tried unsuccessfully to focus on the page of my novel. My hands kept on shaking, forcing me to pull my legs to my chest and rest the book there, not able to hold it. Then my hand couldn’t stay still either, always fidgeting that stone around my neck.
Honey, have you gotten too much coffee today?
she asked with a small chuckle.
What?
I asked, distracted.
She laughed again. Look at your hands! They’re shaking even more than Mrs. Peterson’s.
Finally realizing that, I wound them around my knees, coercing them to behave. I expected her to further comment on my strange conduct, but she went back to knitting. Unable to hold it in any longer, I tentatively started to speak.
Um, Gram?
My voiced sounded so small, it surprised me. Clearing my throat, I tried again. Gram?
She looked up, What is it, hon?
Seeing her gentle chocolate brown eyes-my own eyes—staring at me, I cringed away. Would you like more tea? I’m pretty sure the teapot is practically empty.
She smiled, but her eyes were enough to tell me she didn’t believe me. That’s really sweet. Yes, please.
I picked up the pot, and realized that it was actually empty. Once I got to the door, she added, Charlotte, could you go check on our guest? The gentleman is in room four.
I nodded, ’Kay. Be right back.
I walked out on shaky legs.
After setting the kettle on the stove, I climbed back upstairs. Might as well see that the man was okay, while waiting for the water. Instead of turning left into Gram’s side of the floor, I turned right toward my room. The one this man stayed at was opposite mine. I sure hope he wasn’t loud and rude. With what happened this morning, I was still on the edge.
Knock, Knock, Knock. I crossed my arms over my chest while I waited for him to open the door. This was protocol, making sure that the guests were all okay, but getting a friendly response was not always the case. As the door opened, I went through once again my "Welcome to Finn’s, if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, please let us know!" speech. So many times have I had to deliver it, it was hard to put as much enthusiasm in my words anymore.
Leaning against the door frame, Lucas smirked at me, his arms crossed over his powerful chest. His eyes were clearly grass green with amusement now.
Yes, may I help you, Charlotte?
he asked casually, as if we were discussing the weather.
What are you doing here?
He raised one eyebrow, I live here. Now did you need something? I was in the middle of something.
The fact that Gram was just down the hall was the only thing that stopped me from screaming out of frustration. Taking deep breaths, I curled my fingers into fists at my side. "Yes, I do need something. I’d like to know what is going on here? Why are you here? Wh—what the heck am I talking about?" I paced back and forth. All the while, Lucas seemed rather entertained by my mental breakdown.
You had a long day, Charlotte. I think you should get some sleep,
he advised casually.
I stopped pacing and stared at him. A sudden realization hit me: if I sleep, whenever I sleep, I see him. No way was I going to get even more mixed up about this. Unless I found a way to get him out of my dreams, I was sure to go insane. But I needed to know the reason about his sudden appearance in my life first.
Why are you here?
I asked again, calmer, pushing for the answer.
Just about when he opened his mouth to speak, the kettle hissed angrily downstairs. We both looked down the hall to the stairs then back to each other’s face. Looks like you’re gonna have to wait ‘till later for that answer, princess,
he smirked.
Gah,
I groaned and sprinted downstairs. The last thing I wanted was for Gram to wonder why I didn’t go turn off the stove. With an angry jerk, I turned it off, quieting the kettle. Instead of pouring the water into the pot right away, I leaned against the table and watched the puffs of smoke escaping. If it wasn’t just a figure of speech, smoke would come out of my ears even more than it escaped the opening right now.
Stupid, irritable, beautiful dream.
3. ...Never Thought It Possible...
For a week now, I’ve suffered from constant headaches all due to one person, and he knew it, too. Lucas took his now regular seat in the far corner of Finn’s, but joining him were a group of blond, brainless girls that seemed to know nothing more than how to giggle at everything he says. Just the thought of having shallow and idiotic girls under my roof sickened me. Just like high school, the popular crowd with its meaningless jokes and laughs. Although I knew it was rude, I kept on glaring at them from my seat by the cash register. As it became routine for Lucas to have an audience—not at all affected by my scowl—Finn’s also augmented its number of customers. Everyday, we had a full house; every night, we had a full house. Waiting on tables and taking care of the cash register kept me busy; I never had a moment to ponder back to that first day when I sat around watching dust particles floating. But I still couldn’t get rid of my issues with Lucas. Darn him!
After that first night with him living here, I was afraid I’d lose precious amounts of sleep, and I did, but in different ways that what I had expected. That night, after I refilled Gram’s teapot, I excused myself and went to bed early. Tossing around endlessly, I managed to get my eyes to close at a much later time than usual. Only to wake up at dawn, completely astounded. Like a faulty DVD, my dream kept on playing that whole encounter with him that afternoon over and over and over again. As if I hadn’t had enough already. Why did I feel so frustrated and angry all the time? I had no real idea besides the fact that he refuses to tell me what is going on. But I didn’t care anymore. At least I told myself that. Denial might not always work, but at least it left me in peace for a while. I came up with a similar situation. It was like reading fantasy and fairy tales. Most of the time, the things that happen do not follow reason, but we accept it due to the fact that it is fantasy. Well, maybe I should just accept that somehow, my life has gotten a little too much for me to handle properly. Ever since I adopted that little theory, I was able to manage my temper better, but the headaches still came whenever I tried to solve the mystery. I just wish for life back to normal.
When Lucas lifted his head from some conversation he had with three blond heads, he met my glare. He raised one eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. All right, so maybe he did notice my glare. But from the way his eyes changed to green, he was quite enjoying my frustration.
With an exasperated groan, I got up and walked to the storage room. Might as well put some of that energy to good use. I piled a few boxes on top of one another and came back into the kitchen. Caroline seemed thrilled that I got her more peas and beans just as she was running out. Out in the front counter, we stored a few wine bottles for easier access, so I squatted down and did a quick inventory. With my pad and pen always handy, I jotted down the number of bottles as well as the brands then went back to the back room. Although I hated myself for doing it, I couldn’t help glancing at the far corner again. Then the frown that pulled on my lips couldn’t be helped either as I saw him missing. The three blonds were still chatting away, but he obviously had left. Sighing, I went back to work. The room was mostly empty, anyway.
I hated the storage room. One because it was in the back of the restaurant and poorly lit. Second because we never really organized the boxes. Every time we got something from the stores, we would simply stock it in, never arranging them by categories. So now, I was left trying to find all the brands of wine I needed. I grimaced thinking of all the displacement I would have to do until I found them.
Starting with trying to find the boxes containing bottles, I marked each one as I opened the lid, making my next trip down here easier. Never too late to do an inventory. Peas cans, corn cans, tomato sauces, rice, pasta, napkins, straws, dried sauces, flour... and the list went on. After about thirty boxes, I decided to check the boxes on the top shelf, maybe I will have more luck there. Looking around, I found one of our old bar stools and carried it back. Before I climbed on, I made sure it would hold my weight okay, the last thing I needed was a trip to the hospital for a broken neck. What a fun summer that would be.
The stool was too low, or maybe my five feet four was too short to reach the top shelf, even on my tip toes. Although I could somewhat see the content inside, the box was still above my nose. I reached up, inclining the container slightly and getting on the tips of my toes—a ballerina would have been proud of me—to peek inside. At the moment when I saw the dim light reflect on the shiny bottle of wine, I felt a low and unnerving rumble under my feet. The stool creaked menacingly right before collapsing, sending me backward. In my haste and fear, I grabbed the shelf and it came down also. Everything followed my descent and landed on me.
A fraction of a second after my fall, the pain finally radiated throughout my body; the noise of the shattering glass bottles eventually reached me, and the warm, red liquid flowing down my arm confused me. I was not sure whether that was the wine or my own blood.
Charlotte?
An anxious voice called out somewhere, but I was still hurting too much to know where it came from exactly. Charlotte, don’t move, I’m here.
He got closer, I heard his steady footsteps getting nearer. I followed his instructions only on the impulse that if I were to move, I would hurt even more, so I just laid there, half unconscious. The throbbing in the back of my head where it hit the floor was like a sledgehammer clamoring me, pinning me down.
He knelt by my side and propped me against his chest. I winced at the movement and closed my eyes, biting down on my lower lip. God, Charlotte, what were you trying to do?
he asked in a pained tone as he examined my limbs.
Lucas?
Was I dreaming? My voice sounded so far away, but I snapped back to reality as I saw his honey brown hair and his handsome face clearer. The headache was slowly receding. Slowly.
Don’t move.
He gave me a hard look, then went back to my arm. It stung wherever he touched the gash. So it really was my blood. Now I felt the searing pain of the cuts. I must have fallen on the pieces of glass. Nothing seemed to be broken. But you’re bleeding a lot,
he said absently. Your left arm suffered the most.
His hands were soft and gentle on my arm as he tried to see the gravity of the wound. I lifted my gaze slowly from his hands to his face. It was contorted into a fierce and wary expression. His eyes were no longer the serene color of the ocean, it became as dark as anthracite, the stormy clouds and the angry thunder. Close your eyes, Charlotte,
he asked softly, his eyes focused on mine. The color was getting lighter, silver.
Why?
I asked, confused.
Please, trust me.
He looked so worried and hurt, but I didn’t understand why. I knew it was a bad cut, requiring a couple stitches probably, but why—
Please,
he pleaded again. His earnest voice won me over. I nodded and closed my eyes. I felt his hand close over my wound gently, then a stinging jerked me. His other hand pinned my shoulder down, limiting any movements. The only thing going through my head then was why he was hurting me so much. I wanted to scream, but couldn’t. But slowly, the pain receded and the warmth of his hand left my skin. Okay, you can open them now.
When I fluttered my eyelids open, we were just sitting on the cold cement ground, my head resting on his chest. The shattered pieces of glass, the broken stool, the spilt wine wiped clean off the ground. But the most shocking detail was that my arm no longer bled. I blinked twice to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me. Flexing my arm slowly, I felt no pain.
How—what did you do?
Are you feeling better? Does anything else hurt?
he asked, ignoring my question.
No, I’m fine. Thank you. But what happened? How did you even get in here?
I pressed on. Now that the headache was gone, logic came back.
He got to his feet slowly, pulling me with him. Steadying me, he looked at my face more intensely, as if searching for something in my expression. I was outside when I heard the commotion and your shriek.
You didn’t answer my previous questions,
I informed him. His eyes were softer now, but still wary, his usual blue hasn’t come back yet.
You can’t tell anyone about what happened,
he said sternly, watching me closely.
Why aren’t you telling me anything?
I asked.
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. The less you know, the safer you are.
What are you saying?
My headache was coming back, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t because of my horrific fall.
Trust me, you don’t want to know.
He finished the sentence with an agonized smile. How can this Lucas be the one I spent so much time glaring at for acting exactly like some pompous moron? How was he the one that haunted my dreams? He was the only one with the answers, but refused to give them to me for some insane reason. I stared at him for a while, not grasping the level of importance of which he spoke of. It was obvious that he was not normal, why was he so mysterious and different every time I saw him? The only explanation I could come up with was that I was finally crazy. Spending so much time in the sun during the school year has driven me insane.
His silvery blue eyes lingered over my face for another second before he looked down at my throat. A shadow crossed his tense face. Reaching up, he pulled on the dangling golden stone and tucked it back under the collar of my tee-shirt. You should take the day off. There won’t be any more customers for the day, apart from some family friends,
he asserted. My eyebrows pulled together.
But before I could argue, he put his hand over my lips. You need some rest. There’s no point in arguing,
he added smugly. And just to prove his point even further, as soon as I stepped forward, I tripped over my own feet. He caught me by the elbows, one eyebrow raised.
All the way to my room, he kept one arm steadily around me, making sure I would not fall flat on my face, I presumed. And I was glad he did, because walking up the flight of stairs gave me a bit of vertigo. The strange thing about it, though, was the fact that no one seemed to pay us any attention. As if they were all busy in the front part of Finn’s and none of them even crossed our path. We got to my door and he led me to my bed, sitting me down on the soft mattress.
Sleep,
he ordered.
No. Not until you give me some explanation.
I crossed my arms—without pain—over my chest. Determined.
Sighing, he shook his head. I’m not telling you anything. Now you better sleep before the pain starts to kick back in,
he replied with a mocking grin. Sedating the pain is quite easy, but bringing it back isn’t much of a challenge either,
he threatened and walked gracefully out toward the door.
I gasped in shock. You are such a... jerk!
I said in between clenched teeth. I had a more fitting word bouncing in my head, but I was not going to bring myself to that level.
But Lucas didn’t seem to mind the insult, he just chuckled once and turned around. Yet you can’t stop dreaming about me,
he retorted, self-satisfied. That cut me short. My eyes got wide in shock of that secret not being so secret to him anymore. After those horrible instant replays of the first day he got here, my dreams have been less dramatic and harder to remember. Although Lucas still starred in them, that I could clearly remember.
He closed the door softly behind him, his teasing, bell-like chuckle still in the air. I dug my nails into the bed sheets.
The next morning, when I came downstairs, I learned that Lucas was actually right about the customers. Gram and Betty said that after the lunch rush, only the very regulars came, and they were just a handful. To explain my sudden disappearance, I feigned a headache, which considering what I went through, wasn’t much of a stretch. But no one seemed worried about me to my relief. The morning passed without any peculiar event, unless you counted the fact that Lucas had breakfast alone, no giggling blonds in sight. Unfortunately for me, after what he did last night, I became even more obsessed with him. Not able to go around working without occasionally glancing at him. It was pathetic. And probably unhealthy. I needed answers.
Just when I was about to call for my break and get some brunch for myself, a tall and big guy walked in, obviously looking for someone. His dark hair and friendly smile as he greeted Betty reminded me of James, my tenth grade crush. Well that was a strange notion. To the best of my knowledge, James moved away his senior year to the other side of the country for college on some sport scholarship. Two years ago. What would he be doing here? Must be someone looking a lot like him, I told myself, as I cleaned-up the table, picking up the coffee cups and plates. He was still there when I came out with a small plate of pancakes and a glass of orange juice. I shrugged, then walked to the booth and sat down with my food. I liked mornings like these, when customers came in in waves, giving me time to breathe and takes breaks in between. I was about to bite into my pancake when I heard my name. I turned around and the James-alike guy was walking toward me, a big fat grin on his face. What the heck?
Charlotte! I can’t believe it’s really you!
he said as he extended his arms out and gave me a bear hug.
When he released me, I almost burst out laughing as I recognized him. Hey, James. What are you doing here?
He sat down on the stool next to me, his grin still in place. Just visiting. Wow, it’s so nice to see you again. You’ve grown,
he looked me up and down, a lot.
The blush that crept into my cheeks could not have been stopped. I distracted myself by pouring down some juice.
Are you busy tonight?
he asked casually. I swallowed that piece of pancake, but it almost went down the wrong tube. Coughing, I shook my head in bewilderment, but he took it as no, I am not busy, tonight,
and he handed me my glass. Cool. You can show me around town again. It’s been a while, you probably know where to go for fun.
He smiled.
I coughed one last time and stared at him. Uh, James. I’m sorry, but I think you misunderstood. I have to work tonight.
I pointed to my simple Finn’s logo on the pocket of the tee-shirt, but his eyes lingered a little lower than my finger.
How about I buy you lunch?
he tried again, looking into my face now.
You don’t need to waste your money. This is my family’s restaurant, I get free food.
He was about to propose something else, but someone else was coming into the door, saving me. I gotta go. There’s more people coming. I’ll talk to you later, okay?
I told him, trying to convince him of my apologies as much as I could. Then I sprinted to the new guests.
With my sudden halt in the middle of the aisle, Betty almost crashed into me. I apologized to her, then walked slower to the guests, my heart fluttering at the sight of Richard, my old next door neighbor. His family moved away when I was in ninth grade, never saw him since then. The dichotomy between the little boy and the man in front of me was incredible. If it weren’t for the unusual tint of his blond hair, and his warm brown eyes, I never would have guessed. Wait a minute, what are the chances that James and Richard suddenly reappear all of a sudden?
Excuse me, Miss,
the lady of the group—Richard’s mom, I bet—called me back to attention.
Mom, that’s Charlotte Montclair, don’t you remember her?
Richard reminded her, then smiled at me. I smiled weakly back. Oh, geez.
"Of course! How are you doing, dear? So this is the famous Finn’s..." and she babbled on and on. That was one thing I remembered of his mom. Once she talked, there was no way to stop her. I tried to listen and answer her as much as I could while leading them to a table. I made sure, though, not to get too close to James, didn’t want him to remember I was still around. The guy was daydreaming or something, staring into his cup of coffee. Shaking it off, I took the order of the Smiths, then went back to the kitchen to drop it off. I went to the drink machines and got their beverages taken care of. I was getting the juices ready when I felt someone’s hands on my waist. I froze, my breathing stopped. Oh, shoot! What now?
I really missed you. None of the other girls I met were as nice as you were back then,
Richard’s rough voice whispered in my ear, his face inches from mine. WHAT?! I knew that no one would catch us
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