We spend the remainder of the night catching up, gabbing about what’s gone on in our lives the last four years. Jaime goes on and on about going to college next year and all the cute boys she’s going to meet, while I avoid the topic all together—college is out of the question for me. Instead, I tell her about my exploits, moving around from home to home. Somewhere in the conversation, I realize she managed to live a pretty normal life, while mine seems to mirror the life of a hobo.
It’s almost 2AM by the time we finally fall asleep. My daydreams begin to invade my subconscious and I welcome the reoccurring dreams that invade my sleep each night. I live in a beautiful two story colonial where I have my own bedroom. Sometimes the scenes vary, but they always take place in the same house.
In tonight’s episode, my father and I are in the kitchen laughing over a plate of heavenly lasagna. A woman I don’t recognize is also there and she’s happy that we are all together, enjoying the home cooked meal she had prepared.
The dream sequences have become pretty commonplace the last couple of weeks. I don’t know why I keep dreaming of the same people night after night, but I’m not complaining. If I can’t be part of a family in real life, at least I could imagine myself in a world where I do—even if it’s only in my dreams.
Chapter Two
Battle Grounds
Dominion House for Girls is located right inside the Alexandria city limits and is funded by generous donations supplemented by the Commonwealth of Virginia. Thus, Dominion operates a bit differently than other state run institutions. Even though the donors like to consider this a progressive institution, the place is nothing more than a gilded probation house. The board that runs the facility consists of private benefactors who believe in keeping positive appearances—so they can have something to brag about at their fancy country clubs. Thus, Dominion House is fashioned more like a boarding school. Heaven forbid we give the impression we are anything other than aberrant foster kids. So, due to their desire to maintain a respectable public image, we are allowed to leave the grounds during limited hours, attend public school, and some of the girls are even allowed to maintain their own personal funds, if they have any.
Jaime is one of the fortunate ones who actually has access to money. Her parents died when she was six, making her an orphan like me and leaving her with a sizable trust, unlike me. When she lived with the Thornberry’s, she attended one of the local private schools in the area—she had to pay her own tuition of course. To this day, I can’t understand why Jaime doesn’t take advantage of all her money and go to a real boarding school. Anything has to be better than this dump. It’s no wonder she went on and on the other night about going to college. She can afford to go.
Dominion House is conveniently situated near the local high school, so those of us that don’t have emotional or behavioral disabilities are allowed to leave the grounds and attend Alexandria High. Apparently, my being labeled delinquent doesn’t qualify me for in-house instruction. Not that I mind. For the eight hours that I get to leave the grounds, I feel like a normal teenage girl.
After class, I drag myself back to our room and find Jaime propped up on her bed typing away on her laptop. Personal funds are overseen by designated trustees, but we can purchase things like computers or books for educational purposes. I don’t have the means for something like a laptop, so I have to rely on the library if I want to do research or check emails. Not that I have anyone emailing me—unless you count spam. I mumble a weak greeting to Jaime, drop my books at my desk and sprawl on top of my bed.
At first I ignore it, but Jaime’s stares get the better of me. “What?” I finally ask. I know it’s not like she’s purposely trying to be rude, but her stares are starting to get on my nerves.
Jaime laughs the way all beautiful girls do: hearty and confident. “Nothing silly. I don’t know what I would have done if I had to come back to all this without you around.” She waves her hand around to indicate the glumness of the room.
“I guess,” I say, not knowing how else to respond. Jaime is a quite a sight, sitting on her bed, all bouncy and perky, while I’m just, well, me. I don’t get exactly why she’s acting thrilled about the situation. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to finally have a friend around here, but it’s not like we’re tragic characters in a Charles Dickens tale. I mean, being an orphan sucks and all, but hey, that’s life.
“Hey, we’ve been stuck in the dorms every night this week,” Jaime says as she slides the laptop off her lap. “Why don’t we go somewhere else to study for a change?”
“I don’t see how the library can be any more scintillating than this.” I really don’t want to walk all the way to the library. It’s a ten minute walk and I can spend that time doing something more productive, like watching a repeat episode of Fringe.
“No, I mean, let’s go get some coffee or something.”
Not only is a laptop out of the question, but so is a simple cup of Joe. Even before I came to Dominion House, I had to save my pennies. It’s not like I have a trust that doles out an allowance every week—like someone else I know. Maybe I was a bit rash in dismissing the library. At least there, the books are free.
Jaime must have picked up on my hesitation. “My treat of course. You look like you could use a grande-double-mocha.”
I have no idea what the hell that is, but I’m not going to let on that I don’t.
Crap. This leaves me with two options: I can be proud and decline or accept her offer and be gracious. In the end, I cave. “Sure, it’d be nice to get out of here for awhile.” It’s just a cup of coffee, right?
“Great!” She grinned. “Let’s go to Battle Grounds.”
Both Dominion House and the coffee shop are located within the historic section of Alexandria, better known as Old Town, but it still takes us fifteen minutes to get there on foot. Battle Grounds got its name due to its close proximity to the statue of the Confederate soldier on the corner of Washington and Prince Streets. The soldier doesn’t have a name, so it’s simply known as The Confederate Statue. I guess the proprietors of the coffee shop wanted to keep with the theme of the block, even though a Civil War battle never occurred here—at least not to my knowledge. The shop is actually a renovated old colonial style townhome that most likely served as a family homestead before the surrounding area was slowly eaten up by the ever growing population. It isn’t a large building, but it has a balcony off the second story, and the shop fits in well amongst the other historical buildings along the drag.
We haven’t even placed our order when Jaime leaves me in charge of holding our place in line as she goes in search of a bathroom. The aroma of the coffee is so intoxicating that I’m glad Jaime convinced me to come. I wait patiently for the girl ahead of me to order a triple-chai-soy-machiado-whip drink.
And I thought Jaime was weird talking about grande-mocha-whatever’s.
I hear a deep chuckle coming from the other side of the shop. That’s when I notice him across the room, looking directly at me. He’s darkly handsome in a rugged kind of way. The guy definitely isn’t someone I recognize from around town. Granted, I hardly notice people, but it’s not like we live in a big city. One of the advantages of living so close to Old Town is its small-town feel. Not to mention the fact that Battle Grounds is where you’ll find most of the locals, while tourists prefer the predictability of the Starbucks located on the other end of King Street. Then again, its springtime and we always have an abundance of visitors this time of year. The guy’s probably a tourist who stumbled upon the coffee shop hoping to warm up after being out in the brisk cold air.
My attention goes back to the barista, silently wishing she would hurry up on the drink orders. But my curiosity gets the better of me and I chance another look at the stranger. Bummer. He isn’t standing across the room anymore and I don’t want to give the impression I’m searching for him, so I don’t scan the area for signs of him. Besides, they probably already called his order and he took off.
Ti
red of waiting in line, I decide to ditch it and go in search of Jaime instead. The chick behind the counter is taking way too long to pour coffee and I’m annoyed at this point. If Jaime really wants a drink, she can wait herself.
I find myself going up to the second floor and I check inside the women’s bathroom. I peek under each of the two stalls and find them both empty. Then, after a quick scan of the second floor lounge area, I make my way back down the winding staircase and accidentally bump into the guy I had been ogling from across the room. He’s standing right at the foot of the staircase, blocking my path back to the main section of the café. He hadn’t left after all.
“I saw you get out of line. I hope you don’t mind.” He waves a second cup of coffee in my direction. “I didn’t know how you liked it prepared, so I made sure they left a little room for cream.”
The guy is even more gorgeous up close and personal. His weathered jeans and untucked white button-down gives him a rough, but masculine appearance. The stark black eyes that gaze into mine clash against the rest of his features; his sandy blond hair almost demands he have blue ones. I stand there for several seconds, not being able to stop myself from staring back into his eyes. Reluctantly, I snap back from his gaze and notice he’s actually offering me the cup of coffee. I can actually feel my entire face turn red with embarrassment.
“Are you sure that’s not for someone else?” He probably bought that second cup for a friend, and then decided to give it to me at the last minute. It’s hard for me to imagine anyone being that nice. In my experience, people don’t go out of their way to do thoughtful things—at least that’s what I learned from the folks I grew up around.
I can’t seem to move from my current position. It’s almost as if his body gives off these little electronic waves that flow directly into my own. I can feel the goose bumps on my arms as I continue to stare up at him like a grade-A dork. This is the kind of thing that happens to good looking girls like Jaime, who are prepared for these types of social interactions, not someone like me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not self-conscious about my appearance that I consider myself unattractive—that’s for girls who lack self-confidence. I’m just plain. My long brown hair lacks luster and my brown eyes are neither exotically dark nor light like toffee. Not that I care, but at this moment, I wish I was more like Jaime when it comes to the looks department.
“Nope. It’s all yours.” He hands me the tall cup of coffee. “Shall we?” He motions to one of the empty tables up at the front of the shop near the windows. Normally, I don’t make it a habit of taking drinks from complete strangers, nor accepting invitations to accompany them, but with Jaime still M.I.A., I figure I can kill some time before she comes back.
Sitting opposite each other, I’m able to get a better look at him. He looks older than the guys I go to high school with and if I have to guess, I’d say he’s around twenty, twenty-one. At the very least, he definitely appears more mature than any of the other guys I’ve come across at school.
“So, do you want some cream or sugar?” He offers.
“No, I’m good.” The fragrant smell generating from the steaming hot cup tells me I don’t need to sully it with added crap.
“I’m Cooper.” He grins, flashing a perfect set of teeth. This is a guy who probably never had to wear braces and will never need to spend a dime on tooth whitening strips. His smile is that flawless.
“Etta.” I extend my hand to shake his. “Thanks for the coffee. Um, I’m actually here with a friend, I just don’t know where she ran off to.” Single girl survival tip 101: always let strange men know you’re not alone. This way they know not to try anything stupid like slipping roofies in your drink. Okay, I know we’re in a coffee shop, but a girl can’t be too careful.
“If you’re talking about that blonde you came in with, I’m sure she got sidetracked talking to some guy.”
Great. No doubt he’s only sucking up to me so I can later introduce him to Jaime. I got so caught up talking with him that I didn’t stop to question why a good looking guy like him would buy a girl like me a cup of coffee.
“You’re probably right.” This isn’t the first time Jaime’s forsaken me for someone she just met.
I feel a big tug on my right elbow. Speak of the devil—I turn just in time to see Jaime looking beyond annoyed. “Hey, where’d you run off to? I was looking for you.” Now that I’m talking to Cooper, I wish she’d stayed where she was.
“What are you doing here?” She hisses.
At first, I think she’s addressing me, but one look at her face indicates her irritation is aimed directly at Cooper. Does she know him? I’m sure Jaime would have mentioned knowing him. Taking a protective stance, her hand moves from my elbow to my shoulder.
“It’s a free country, darlin’. I can patronize any establishment I want.” He counters back. Unlike Jaime, he seems to be enjoying this.
We’ve been sitting for several minutes and this is the first time I notice the drawl in his voice. Perhaps he’s one of those people whose Southernisms come out when they were drunk, provoked, or in this instance, amused.
“Hey, Jaime, I’m—” I try to break away from her hold, but this only tightens her grasp on my shoulder.
“Come on Etta, we’re leaving.” Jaime attempts to drag me out of the place. From the look in her eyes, she is hell bent and determined to get me out of here, even if it means dislocating my shoulder. This isn’t good. She must know him or she wouldn’t be acting this way.
“What? Why? I don’t understand.” Confused, I look over at Cooper. He doesn’t make an effort to move from his seat and watches as Jaime pulls me out of the chair, clearly entertained by the spectacle we are no doubt creating.
Jaime looks him square in the eye. “You need to go back to wherever it is you came from.”
“Why don’t we just let Etta decide?” His attention shifts from Jaime over to me. “Etta, do you want to leave or do you want to stay here and talk? Don’t let her bully you into anything.”
A small crowd begins to gather where the three of us are arguing. Again, this isn’t good. The familiar feeling of my blood pressure rising is never a good sign and I don’t know what’s going to happen if I end up getting upset. Will my temper affect Jaime or Cooper? It’s not like I can control whatever it is I have. I don’t even know how it works. All I know is that any time I get upset or felt threatened, bad things happen. What if I get angry and I inadvertently hurt someone? I’m not willing to take any chances.
So as not to cause an impending scene, I decide to go along with Jaime and leave. I’m not thrilled with her telling me what to do and I still think she’s taking things a little too seriously, but this Cooper guy must be an ex-boyfriend or they wouldn’t be going at each other this way. Jaime and I have to get out now. The situation is getting way out of control, not to mention my body temperature.
“Come on Jaime, you win, we’re going now.” I grab hold of her hand, allowing her to lead me out of the shop. As we make our way out, I can’t help but peer over my shoulder to look at Cooper one last time. Instead of being annoyed that our conversation was cut short, he still has the same amused expression on his face. I silently mouth, “I’m sorry,” and follow Jaime out the door.
After all my reservations about going to Battle Grounds, I’m kinda bummed to be leaving. Jaime has some major explaining to do when we get back to Dominion House.
“We have to get out of here now before he follows us.”
“I don’t think it’s going to come to that. When we get back, you’re going to tell me exactly what all that was about.”
My statement catches catch her off guard, as if she hadn’t thought past getting me out of the coffee shop. “I’ll explain when we’re safe back at the home.”
When we get back to our room, Jaime places herself in the middle of her twin sized bed. She glances around the room and then back at me. “I’m so sorry, Etta. I shouldn’t have left you alone,” she says.
“Yeah, a
bout that. Where did you go? Cooper and I were just talking anyway. I don’t see what the big deal was. Why were you acting so weird back there?”
“I’m sorry I left you there all alone. I bumped into Bridget on my way to the bathroom and got sidetracked,” Jaime explains. “Look, I wish we could avoid this conversation all together, but there’s something you need to know.”
When I think back to all that had transpired tonight, there’s nothing that could have prepared me for what Jaime says next.
“That guy you were talking to at the coffee shop? He’s been around here.”
Chapter Three
Alexandria High
“What…?” For a second I misunderstand and think Jaime is saying she’s seen him around town. But that doesn’t make any sense. So, I’m pretty sure she means here at Dominion House.
“You heard me. He came by asking for you,” Jaime continues. “And somehow he manages to track you down over at Battle Grounds? That’s not good Etta. One minute he’s here snooping around, asking if I know you, and the next thing I know, you’re all cozied up with him at the coffee shop.”
“Did he say why?” Granted, our interaction was brief, but he probably would have gotten around to telling me why he was looking for me, if Jaime hadn’t intervened. There has to be a reasonable explanation. “And for your information, I wasn’t all cozied up. We were just talking. He was nice enough to get me a cup of coffee. I got tired of waiting for you.”
“No, he didn’t say. That’s why I got you out of there.” She says this with a serious tone in her voice. “What if he’s some kind of a stalker?” Her face softens a bit. “Look, I’m sorry I left you there alone. I didn’t think I’d be chatting that long.”
Parallel (Travelers Series Book 1) Page 2