~*~
Nick glared at the gravel of the clinic parking lot as if it were responsible for the memory of that fight. Restlessly he headed back into the clinic.
He had been left with a vivid scar, but Wayne had lost his dream of playing football after high school. Nick had expected Wayne to try and make his life hell the rest of the senior year, but surprisingly, it hadn’t happened.
Nick shrugged. What had happened was that every time Nick turned around at Brighton High, he had seen Jessica Roberts. Cheerleader, volleyball player, class president—you name it and she was doing it.
And he had wanted her. Or maybe he had wanted what she represented—a girl that had it all. It was more than that, though, it was knowing that nothing really ugly ever touched her.
She was pure achievement; it never occurred to her that there might be something she couldn’t do. Her parents showed up at every event and cheered her, her clothes were the best money could buy, and it was clear that she had a hundred million lessons for anything she was interested in. The girl could dance, tumble, play volleyball, swim, and her grades were top notch. She was perfect.
And she never looked at him twice. She hadn’t even known he existed. He was invisible to a girl like her. But it didn’t seem to matter. He still wanted her.
Knowing he joined a long list of males at Brighton High hadn’t made it any easier.
Until that night. Angrily he shook his head. That night had rocked his world. He had waited for her to come back, so sure she felt the same way. But she never came and he would be damned if he was going to hunt her down. What had he been thinking? A waiter and Jessica Roberts, yeah right. He could still see the horror on her mother’s face when she had stumbled on them. He had felt every bit as rough and blue collar as he knew he looked. But still he had hoped. And waited.
For nothing.
When he left to join the navy, every single woman he was with was measured against Jessica Roberts and fell short. Gradually her memory had faded until when he thought of her, if at all, it was more a memory of undefined lust, a memory of longing and unrequited passion rather than a face or body.
Well, that was over.
He stopped to lean against a wall, trying to make sense of his emotions. Nick growled as he rubbed his face tiredly. Yeah, the days of faded memories were gone. He hadn’t recognized her at first, true. But then he did. It was when they locked eyes. Those eyes had stayed with him for years. One minute he was seeing a drug addict and the next he was a teenager again.
The woman he had mistaken for a street user was transformed in a flash. She had backed him into the wall giving him an earful, her skin glowing in the light, her mink brown hair piled into an unruly mess on the top of her head, her green eyes hot with temper. She looked magnificent. She looked like that girl in high school only more human, more alive and definitely not shy. He had wanted to touch her—every fine-boned inch of her.
So he touched her. And then he found he couldn’t stop. In school she had been untouchable to a boy like him. He combed his fingers through his hair with a savage gesture and prowled the hallway like a caged animal. “Now what is someone like Jessica Roberts doing working at this clinic?” He spoke out loud. “And why,” he murmured, “does she still have the power to get to me?”
She had responded to him, he remembered with satisfaction. He knew he should care that she was married, but all he could think of was burying himself in her tight heat. Even when he stood five feet away from her he had been as hard as stone. It hurt. He drew a ragged breath. Well, he would just have to get over it. The strong surge of possessiveness had taken him by surprise, making him stake his claim without thinking or caring beyond having her.
But he wasn’t a mindless animal. He wasn’t that kid anymore that lived his life fueled by emotion. I’m claiming what’s mine. No wonder she had looked at him as if he were crazy. He had always been obsessed with her...and the shock of seeing her again must have addled his brain.
However, she was a woman—nothing more and nothing less. Working with her would probably be a good thing. He could see up close that she wasn’t anything special. He could finally see that the girl who had hijacked every dream he ever had in that last year of high school was just a typical female. Besides, he wouldn’t have to suffer long. He doubted if Jesse Holbrook could handle what this clinic and this neighborhood was about to throw at her. He didn’t care how many third world counties she had been in. She’d be gone within a month.
Write On Press Presents: The Ultimate Collection of Original Short Fiction, Volume II Page 36