Entangled: A Novel of Romantic Fantasy (Wanderlust Academy Book 1)

by Lori Wilde

  And he didn’t demand one. We watched in silence as the birds swooped around, filling the wintry air with their woeful cries. Then he offered me his arm. “Shall we move closer?”

  I blinked, and there in the distance was a house. So familiar, and yet— I frowned. “Should I remember this place?” I asked, staring at the crooked house across the frozen water.

  “Don’t be afraid, my love. I do not want you to be afraid.”

  Why did he keep repeating that? I wasn’t afraid.

  Darcy brushed a stray curl away from my face, his dark fathomless eyes studying me closely. “You’re different tonight,” he said quietly.

  I felt something had changed in me, but I shook my head in denial. “So, that house…” My attention was drawn back to it, unable to keep it from my focus. “Who does it belong to?”

  He stood in front of me and took my hands in his. One by one he brought them to his lips, kissing the back of each in turn. “All will be revealed in time.”

  Suddenly, I was filled with cold dread…was it the birds? The night? The house? He leaned in and touched his lips to mine. It was a soft kiss, gentle, romantic, and idealized. Blurring the lines of love and desire.

  When I pulled back, his rich dark eyes searched mine.

  “What is it? Something troubles you; I can sense it. Something. Or someone.”

  “It’s nothing,” I replied, but my gaze was again pulled to the house that was now just a few feet away, towering over us. Memories started to form at the peripheries of my mind, but they had no substance, just puffs of smoke, dissipating before they could fully take shape.

  Again, he took my hand. “No one will ever hurt you again.” He said it with a hard conviction that made me shudder. “I will not lose you, Nora, and I’ll not let anyone take you from me.”

  I leaned my head against his shoulder, watching as the pieces of the house started to splinter apart, becoming fragments of dust in seconds before blowing away with the gentle breeze. I looked up at Darcy, at his soft features and hard gaze. I felt his hand curl around mine. How long had he been in my life…this perfect boy protecting me? Only, he wasn’t a boy. He was a mystery, a dream… And as morning pulled me from my sleep, Darcy’s hand faded from mine…slipping away to nothing but a faint, lingering memory. Because…he was not real.

  I woke with a start to the sound of my phone alarm buzzing on the pillow next to me. Groaning, I rolled over. Kenzie would be here within the hour. This was it. My measly belongings were crammed into two backpacks. I was ready to spend the summer at Wanderlust Academy.

  Two hours later, Kenzie and I were unpacking our gear in the two-bedroom, two-story log cabin at Wanderlust Academy, Summer Camp Immersion.

  After mindlessly placing all of my belongings into four of the twelve wooden drawers provided in my bedroom, I dropped down onto the bed and leaned back again the ornately carved log headboard. The linen smelled freshly washed like rainfall and sunshine, and for some reason it made me want to be sick. Like even my digestive system knew I didn’t belong here.

  So this was it. This was my life for the next ninety days. The next 2160 hours, give or take. When you were trapped in purgatory did a few hours more or less really matter?

  I’d only had a chance to visit grandfather once before we left. I hated that I wouldn’t be able to see him more. But the nurse promised she’d read my letters to him as often as they arrived. Cell service was sketchy out here in the middle of nowhere.

  He was asleep more than he was awake now, but I knew he could hear me and could feel when I was there. Which meant he’d miss me when I wasn’t. And three months seemed like a very long time to be away.

  Still, with the money I made from this job, I’d be able to get him into a facility closer to home where he could get the best care he needed. That was all that mattered now.

  I missed my old life. When Grandma was still alive. And when Granddad was still himself.

  Sighing, I stuffed the memories back down. It was over. Moving on. Our first day was pretty flexible as far as time commitments went. There was a tour and orientation, and then we were invited to explore on our own after lunch. Kenzie had already hooked up with some counselors from Brazil she’d met during the interviews, including one I’d recognized from the interview. Steve, or so his shirt had said.

  When I declined to join them for a swim, she took off, leaving me alone in the expansive cabin. It had pretty much everything you could want. Indoor plumbing, microwave, even a coffee machine. I mean, it was hardly roughing it.

  But no TV or internet sucked, and I hated being away from my sculpting supplies. And of course Granddad.

  A walk...that’s what you need, Nora. Enough moping. I tugged a sweatshirt over my tank top and shorts, slipped on my flip-flops, and headed outside. I followed the trail into the woods nearby. Beyond it was the lake, a crystal glistening clear blue body of liquid, just begging for some party-hard teens to fall into and drown.

  This place had high school horror flick all over its idyllic brochure. And here I was in the middle of it. A girl with a dream guy occupying her nights and a real live one traumatizing her days. At least that was how it felt seeing Troy again.

  Nothing like being completely forgotten to boost a girl’s self-esteem and to be reminded of said failure every time I saw him, which from the sounds of it would be a lot of the next twelve weeks.

  I’d only been walking a few minutes when I ran into Kenzie.

  “What happened to the Brazilian boys?” I asked as she sauntered over.

  “They got hauled into the principal’s office for smoking. I told them not to do it out in the open, but did they listen…” she said with an eye roll. “Where ya headed?”

  “Nowhere.”

  “Can I join?”

  I shrugged and kept walking. Until I stopped dead.

  Troy. He wore a fitted white t-shirt and gray track pants rolled at the waist. He was jogging, earbuds plugged in, and heading in our direction.

  My heart lurched, and in a moment of panic, I grabbed Kenzie, shoved her into the bushes, then dove in after her.

  “What the f—”

  I clapped my hand over her mouth as Troy jogged past us, his rock-hard muscles I remembered all too well flexing as he ran.

  When he was out of view, I climbed out of the shrubs and offered Kenzie a hand to help her up.

  She smacked it away. “What the hell was that about?” She dusted her red pants, scowling. “In what universe do we hide from gorgeous guys?”

  Every day in my universe. “Sorry. I just wasn’t ready to see him again.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s…it’s complicated.”

  “Well, make it un-complicated.” She raised her brows in expectation. Then her foot started tapping.

  Damn.

  “Why don’t you want to talk to Mr. Hot?” Her voice rose.

  “Shhh! Because,” I whispered, dragging her back toward the cabin, “I know him. I mean, we’ve met before. In the past.”

  “You’re being cryptic. What happened? How’d you meet?”

  “He was in a course I was taking.” I chewed my lip, regretting that I hadn’t come up with a lie.

  “Cool.” She studied my face. “Or not so cool. You don’t look too thrilled about seeing him again. Get a bad grade?”

  “Yeah, something like that.” Actually, nothing like that.

  Kenzie sucked air through her teeth. “And now he’s your boss. Cra-zy.”

  “Right?” That seemed to satisfy her, which meant for now my humiliation was safe.

  “Come on,” I sighed, “first orientation is in half an hour.”

  Chapter Eight

  Our schedules were completely opposite, so Kenzie headed to her orientation session as I made my way toward mine. We were teaching different programs: hers was acting which was toward the west part of the camp; mine was artistic stage productions, toward the east.

  But the biggest difference in our schedules was that m
ine included therapy sessions with Dr. Grace Strange. Considering that between Kenzie and me, I was the relatively sane one, I had to wonder if I was the only staff member who got this honor.

  I followed the path laid out on the hand-drawn maps and arrived at the outdoor theatre. The stage was flanked by purple velvet curtains and rows of folding chairs, most of which were occupied by fresh and eager puppet-masters-to-be. Hard to even think that phrase with a straight face. Only the front row was empty, and I grabbed a seat dead center before I looked up and stopped breathing.

  Troy Bellisaro strolled onto the stage. Woah. Okay, wait. Was he actually running this class? But...but...he was the owner. CEOs weren’t supposed to teach. He’d said he headed the program…that’s not the same as teaching it.

  He was supposed to stay hidden in his office behind closed doors and far away from my overactive imagination and morbid sense of embarrassment. I shrunk down in my chair.

  Troy sat down on the edge of the stage, his long jean-covered legs hanging over the side. Our eyes locked for a second, and it was one of those time-stands-still kind of moments. Only, I didn’t want it to linger; I wanted to bolt as far from this place as possible. He looked away to address the group, and I could breathe again.

  “Welcome, everyone new, and some not so new...”

  Okay, I can do this. Maybe he just gives the welcome pitch, or at the worst teaches a class or two. If I timed it right, I might not see him more than once or twice all summer.

  “We only have two weeks to prep before our attendees arrive, so you’ve got your work cut out for you. If you’re an intern, stick close to your mentor. You are their shadow. Nora Dultry?”

  I think I swallowed my tongue. I lifted my eyes and answered in a thin voice. “Yes?”

  He fixed his gaze on mine, and I felt the warm dark chocolate of his stare melt all over me.

  “You’ll have to be my shadow, since your late arrival has left you without a match,” he said.

  Oh God, this just got awkward. So much for timing it right.

  The girl next to me nudged my arm. “You lucked out. Every girl here was hoping for Troy as their partner.”

  Really? Were they willing to trade because I’d take it. I smiled thinly. “Huh. Lucky me.”

  “It’s the art of storytelling, and it’s as old as time,” Troy continued. “Find your own creative direction and process and move with it. We’re taking it beyond the sock, people.” Everyone laughed.

  I felt like I was sitting in on a secret club meeting, and I was the only one who didn’t know the language.

  “We’ll be covering everything from Monster Puppets to Hand and Rod style.”

  The girl next to me snickered, and I rolled my eyes. She had to have been at least eighteen to apprentice here, but come on, giggling over hand and rod? This was going to be my summer?

  “Performance, Acting and lastly there’s Design. Consider things like balance, weight, material movement. How do you want them to feel on the stage in relation to the story?” Troy pointed to me. “Nora?”

  Crap, I didn’t even realize that was a real question. My mind went blank. “I, uh, I guess it depends? On the backstory, I mean.” Actual beads of sweat trickled down my back.

  He held my gaze long enough for people to start gawking at us, then he clapped once. “Yes. Exactly. That’s what we need to explore. It’s about relationships and all relationships have history. What we use, how we use it, all piece together to convey an emotion. And that’s what’s at the heart of human existence. Emotion.”

  I wasn’t a student; there were no grades to pass, and yet I was literally sweating under the pressure.

  “That’s it for now, everyone, I’ll see you back here in a couple of hours.” His voice rose over the din of people leaving. “Take up the tour guides on their offer; it’s a huge place, and you’ll need to know your way around. Especially those of you who are new.” His eyes wandered back to me. I froze. Like deer-in-the-headlights froze.

  “Nora. If you wouldn’t mind staying, I have a few things to go over with you.”

  I swallowed and nodded, ignoring the jealous whispers of the girls around me. Juveniles. It was like junior high all over. Except back then, I wasn’t the one being called out by the cute boy.

  He waited for everyone to clear out before he leaped down from the stage with the agility of a gymnast, then sat in the folding chair next to me.

  “You’re new to this, aren’t you?”

  Was it that obvious already? “Pretty much. But I’m a quick study,” I added, sounding more confident than I felt. Inside, my head was filled with insecurities. Stuff like please don’t fire me. And of course the inner monologue vacillating between thank god he doesn’t remember me; please don’t let him remember me, and why the hell doesn’t he remember me?

  “Well, it’s a lot like acting, art, and sculpting combined. You up for that?”

  “I guess. I can honestly say I’ve never considered puppetry that way before.”

  “You’ve never considered it at all, from what I understand.”

  Grace must have told him about my pathetic interview. I still have no idea how I was even here. I hung my head, a little ashamed. It’s true I knew nothing about this discipline. Didn’t even know it was one until Kenzie brought it up. And I admit I mocked it mercilessly at first. But now, I got how much magic it could hold for kids.

  “Don’t worry, Nora. I’m not trying to single you out. Sometimes the most reluctant trainees turn out to be the best.”

  “Even the desperate skeptics who are selfishly only in it for the money?” I chewed my lower lip.

  “Especially the desperate skeptics. They have the most to gain.” He lifted his gaze. “And the most to lose.”

  I was the first to pull my gaze away.

  He led me to an adjacent building where I gathered that all of the magic happened. We stood in the doorway as he pointed out a few different assignments I’d be working on. Secondary projects, since I was new.

  “Ever co-create a group project on this scale before?”

  “Not even once.”

  His gaze found mine. “I get to be your first. Lucky me.”

  I narrowed my eyes, ignoring the way my insides jumped up and down.

  Full lips curved into a half-smirk, like he knew exactly what I was thinking. “We keep a schedule in here. Wanna pass me that clipboard?”

  I turned around and crashed into a tray of paint, sending it splattering to the floor. Smooth.

  “I see we’re going to have to take things slow.” He winked.

  Was he seriously flirting with me right now? I wanted to be enraged at the nerve, but all I could work up to was flattered. This was going to be a long summer.

  My gaze floated back to his. “Well, I have to say the puppetry department is pretty amazing. Jim Henson would be impressed. I mean look at this prop shop.” I waved my hand around the room, overflowing with machines and tools, fabric bolts and paints, wood and metal. “I was expecting less interpretive dance and artistry…and more…sock.”

  He laughed. “Glad we changed that perception.”

  That laugh was still hypnotic. I closed my eyes briefly to regroup. This is stupid. You cannot pine for some guy who doesn’t even remember you. No matter how cute he is. Or how good he smells. Or the way he licks his lips every time he laughs. I opened my eyes again. It wasn’t helping. It just provided a screen on which to project images from the night we were together.

  Kenzie strolled over as we were heading back toward the stage, her gaze hopping from Troy to me and back.

  “You almost finished, Nora, or should I meet you at the cabin later?”

  “Done already?” Troy asked. “Things move fast in the drama department.”

  “You have no idea.” She flipped her braids over her shoulder and cocked her head.

  Kenzie was definitely flirting, and it bugged me. Why did it bug me? He wasn’t mine. We barely knew each other. Less than barely, considering he DOESN�
��T EVEN REMEMBER ME. Ugh...just let it go already.

  “We’re pretty much finished,” Troy said. “I can get you caught up on the rest later, Nora.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he turned to Kenzie. “Hope you both enjoy Camp Wanderlust.”

  She beamed her brightest, flirtiest smile. “Oh, we plan on it.”

  Chapter Nine

  Kenzie and I mounted the broad steps to our fairytale-esque log cabin. The living room alone was bigger than Granddad’s old house.

  I headed straight for my room. “I’m exhausted.”

  Kenzie followed me. “Too much dreaming again last night,” she said, then proceeded to rummage through the stuff on my dresser, picking up my well-read copy of Pride And Prejudice.

  I groaned. “Let it go, Kenzie.”

  “Lots of people have imaginary friends, babe. No judgment here.”

  “He’s not my imaginary friend.”

  “Isn’t he? ’Kay, let’s recap. He’s not real—soooo...”

  “People who have imaginary friends think they’re real. I just told you he’s not. He’s just someone I dream about.” Fabulous, amazing, breathtaking dreams.

  “Yeah, night after night. And he’s why you’ve never met anyone else. I’d say your dream guy is a lot more than just your dream guy. He’s your reason for not living your life. But don’t listen to me.” She waved the book in the air. “You go ahead and wait for the real Mr. Darcy to walk into your life.” She checked the clock. “He should arrive anywhere between nine a.m. and, oh I don’t know, a quarter to never?”

  I knew this track; we’d been down it a million times, and there was no derailing Kenzie once she started on it. Like a dog with a bone, the only out was to throw her something bigger to chew on.

  “I am living my life,” I said, measuring out my words for greater impact. “In fact, someone from the life you claim I’m not living is actually here at the school.”

  She stared me down, her eyes challenging. “Whaddya mean someone? Like as in a guy?”