Nowhere Girl (Foundlings Book 1)

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Nowhere Girl (Foundlings Book 1) Page 12

by Fiona Keane


  “Not like that. Nothing like that happened,” I defended Sophia’s integrity. “I would never push Sophia into something…look, we just talked. I think I pressured her too much, too soon, into talking about stuff…and she ran away from me, so I followed her home.”

  “Uh, Jameson…”

  “Not in a stalker way, Doc. It was romantic.”

  “Romantic?”

  “And then we talked on her bed and she slept on me all night. I stayed up. I protected her from her nightmares. I’m her protector.”

  “You’re her protector? Does she know this?”

  “I hope so.”

  “Hmm,” he sighed, analyzing our dialogue. “She sleeps on you in her bed all night and you don’t think you’re leading her on to expect something else from you?”

  “I know I am,” I moaned, pulling on my face. “But I can’t help it.”

  “Jameson, there isn’t anything to help. You obviously have feelings for this girl and, if I know anything about girls, it sounds like she has found comfort with you. You, of all people, know how challenging it is to even consider talking to people about the trauma in their lives. Now, this girl divulged something sensitive about her own past to you and let you sleep in her room after only a couple weeks of knowing you. What does that tell you?”

  “I’m already ruining her.”

  “Then stop ruining her and help yourself by helping her. Why can’t you both protect one another? Why does it have to be you? Is it because you feel that you couldn’t protect Samantha?”

  Putrid bile rumbled into my throat at the sound of her name.

  “Innocent people need protection,” I spoke through gritted teeth. “And Sophia is perfect. She’s flawed, and human, and beautiful. She should stay that way.”

  “And if she doesn’t want to stay that way?”

  “She does.”

  “Jameson…”

  “I’m not talking about Samantha tonight.”

  ***

  Therapy was the most intrusive tonight. I don’t know how much Thomas and Elizabeth were forking over for Dr. Edwards to bust my brain apart every week, but I didn’t feel like I’d gotten anywhere tonight except frustrated.

  It had been a few weeks since Sam came up, and now I felt all of these dangerously estranged emotions coming over me again. And I longed to be held. I needed some reassurance that something, anything, would be okay someday.

  I stumbled from my car and made my way into the lonely hotel room where I spent the night too often. My room key slipped into the slot, releasing the lock with a muted click.

  It smelled of chlorine and lemons inside. The queen-sized bed was covered in navy blue and beige pillows and blankets. A large television sat across from the bed, but wasting time and zoning out to the sound of late night talk shows was far from my interest in that moment.

  I kicked off my shoes and stripped to my boxer shorts before climbing into the pile of covers on that soft mattress. Fruitlessly attempting to sleep, I reached for my phone, scanning the pictures my friends sent me one last time. Her smile haunted me as it pressed against Olivia’s cute face. I was so glad she and Olivia were friends. I trusted Olivia.

  Dr. Edwards knew better—he knew I couldn’t risk telling Sophia about my past.

  I fell asleep holding my phone, zoomed into the beautiful strawberry-blonde hair and blue eyes I longed to see again.

  Despite Dr. Edwards attempting to open the locked, and cement-covered, ideas of Samantha tonight and the fact I would spend the next two days continuing to meet with attorneys, my mind was clear and free of nightmares.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-ONE

  SOPHIA

  “Tropical Storm Lucy is expected to make landfall within the next two weeks as pressure in the Atlantic slowly presses into the Keys.”

  The Weather Channel buzzed in the background. I was looking forward to my first tropical storm, but still hoped it wouldn’t turn into a hurricane, because I had no clue how to survive one of those.

  “Honey.” Simon paced the kitchen on his cell phone. “You’re not listening to me.”

  “Yikes,” I mumbled, taking a seat at the kitchen table and guzzling the orange juice he had previously poured for me.

  “No. Not happening. Listen to me. You’re not listening to me. Forget it. I’ll just come in. Yeah. Bye.”

  I flinched when Simon’s phone slammed against the table inches from my hand.

  “Darling,” Jules hushed. “No business at the breakfast table.”

  Jules didn’t come home until late yesterday afternoon. I assumed it took an entire day to clean up the mess left behind at Simon’s condo, or his cleaning staff had the day off due to the holiday, and that’s what took her so long to come home. This morning was the first day back to school since Friday and the first time I would see Jameson since Thursday. Thursday.

  I couldn’t help but flash back to the bits and pieces of that night. It felt chaotic, intense, but comfortably serene. He let me sleep on him. In my room.

  “Ma chère.” Jules poked my forearm with the end of her spoon. “You’re as red as an apple.”

  “What? Huh? Oh.” I looked away, sipping from my orange juice and nervously clearing my throat.

  I almost pierced my bottom lip, stuffing it between my teeth as I stared out the window, hoping time would speed along with my heart. I was…nervous…for reasons unfamiliar to my normal haze of apprehensions.

  “Hmm.” She eyed me speculatively. “What is on that mind of yours?”

  “Sophia, Sophia,” Simon smiled, finally returning to a calm state. “Jules, leave her alone. She’s clearly got a lot on her mind.”

  “Is it that boy?”

  My breathing hitched painfully in response to her invasive inquiry. I lowered my head toward the table, studying the final crumbs from my bagel, as I shook it in response.

  “There’s a boy?” Simon coughed. “Which one?”

  “He was at the party, dear.”

  “No.” I laughed, “Derek? No. He isn’t a…my…no. Listen, I have to get going. Can I drive today? I don’t want to be caught in a hurricane.”

  “You better be careful,” Jules warned in a whisper. “Love is even more dangerous than Mother Nature.”

  She reached for her keys and dropped them into my hand before kissing my cheek and returning to study Simon. He had returned to his phone, irritable and aggressively competing with his receiver. Rolling my eyes at her, I stood up to leave the room.

  My backpack was near the screen door, so I grabbed it on the way out. It was balmy outside and I just knew it would be a sticky day in more than just the temperature. This would be lovely. They’d already given me the shakes, and I don’t think it would be possible for me to quash the excited grin that fought with my mouth.

  I parked my car in a vacant spot as close to the main door of school as I could, but I underestimated how quickly the lot would fill, and I was stuck at least ten rows away from the door. Approaching the building with a sluggish pace through the impending humidity, I thought back to the first time I arrived for school. I shuddered, but proudly held my head up because I’d done it. She would be proud of me and I needed to stay true to that.

  Olivia and Owen were walking away from her Mini, his arm was wrapped around her shoulder as Olivia’s head rested on him while they moved.

  Eight days after this day and I was done with this place. I could leave if I wanted to. I hated the heat. Where would I go? Where could I go?

  “Good morning.” His forgiving whisper tickled my hair and my heart stopped. “You need to start paying attention to where you’re walking. I’ve been at your side for at least thirty seconds now and you haven’t noticed me staring at you.”

  “Creeper.”

  “My heart.” His hand clung to his dress shirt, drawing my attention to the undone first button. “I…um…I missed you while I was gone.”

  “Could’ve fooled me, Jameson.” I struggled to avoid his eyes; those honeyed o
rbs that I knew would draw me in hopelessly.

  “Soph.”

  I continued to walk, assuming he was still following at my side, but when I no longer heard him I stopped and turned around. Dammit. He tricked me into looking at him. That little…ugh! It was worth it though. I had been excited to see him today and I had…missed him?

  “Jameson.”

  He stepped to join me, both of us standing between luxury cars driven by spoiled teenagers, as students arrived in a blur. Jameson reached for my left hand as it hung by my side, holding Jules’s keys. The zap was shocking, disruptive, and triggered my eyes to stare into his. It was a gentle yet presumptive gesture that reminded me how I had come to crave his confidence. My eyes faltered, falling to our hands, watching our fingers intertwine, and then up to his face, where his gaze burned into mine. His messy hair was driven by the Gulf wind. His tan was warm, delicately coloring his skin, and his eyelashes darkened the focus of my stare into his glowing eyes.

  “I owe you an apology.”

  “For…?”

  “I was a dick,” he curtly acknowledged. “You deserve better.”

  “I do.” I nodded, beginning to smile. “We all do. Dicks suck.”

  “Hey…” He squeezed my hand. “I’m serious. I thought a lot about you this weekend and that night.”

  The burning tickle began creeping along my cheeks, forcing my gaze to lower with embarrassment. Jameson’s free hand lifted my chin, making avoidance impossible. His continued physical contact, especially in public, made my knees wobble.

  “I wanted to thank you for trusting me the other night. Trusting me to come in your house, trusting me to tell me parts of your story, and for letting me stay with you.”

  “Okay,” I exhaled.

  I think the shakiness in my hand was a signal for him to let go, because he released his hold, grinning at me, and walked away.

  He walked away? I don’t know how the heavens expected me to make it through my day now.

  In a zombie-like trance, I somehow managed to enter the building and realized I was lingering outside of first period. Olivia and Derek were just walking inside and noticed me, thankfully, before I walked into a wall.

  ***

  I approached my locker in a hurry, quickly trying to avoid the couples engaged in deliriously inappropriate PDA as I switched books between classes. One more period left for the day. The locker door slowly opened, allowing a lump of paper, folded into a thick diamond, to fall from one of the small slits near the top. I bent to reach for it, slowly opening the several folds as I glanced around to ensure I wasn’t being watched.

  “What’s got you in such a mood?” Olivia leaned against the locker next to mine as I hastily scrunched the paper in my fist.

  “A mood?”

  “Your face, Sophia. You look like you’ve won the lottery or something.”

  “Sorry. It’s just weird coming back after a day off.”

  “Agreed.” She giggled, her head rolling back against the locker as she sighed. “I think I’m in love.”

  “Already?”

  “Yes.” She beamed, staring off into the distance like a lovesick puppy. “Already.”

  I balled the paper into my fist and stuffed it into the pocket of my skirt. Whatever it was, it had to wait because Olivia was making no effort to peel herself from the locker next to mine. Closing my locker and smiling at Olivia, I watched her eyes twinkle with glee.

  “Owen’s great and all, but you’ve been together for like two weeks,” I tried to reason with her. “And to be in love?”

  Really, Sophia? What’s the matter with you? I wasn’t in love, but after only two weeks, my heart was in pieces battling with my mind over which would crumble first.

  “It can happen,” she scoffed with a smile. “Sometimes you just know, Sophia. You just know someone is your match, your piece, the person you love.”

  “I don’t think we just love one person, ever.”

  “Have you ever been in love?”

  I looked down, realizing the difference between us. “No.”

  “You just haven’t found the right person yet.” She nodded. “He’s out there.”

  “Probably not. I don’t think I’m meant to be loved.”

  “Sophia.” She grasped my wrist as I lifted my messenger bag over my chest. “We are all meant to be loved. You are meant to be loved. Please don’t ever doubt yourself again.”

  I opened my mouth to reply. “I am serious,” she snapped.

  I bit my tongue. I didn’t need to bore Olivia with the reasons I knew I wouldn’t be happy like she was, nor did I wish to focus any longer on my feelings as we stood in the busy hall.

  “I’ve got seventh now,” I interrupted her fierce stare. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Bye, Sophski.” Um. What?

  Olivia melted into the flow of students transitioning in the hallway and I decided, with note in hand, to venture into class. It was filling quickly, as I had spent too long in the hall with Olivia. I took my new usual spot, behind Derek, and nestled into my chair as Mrs. Calvin began her lecture.

  I adjusted the hem of my skirt, switched which leg was crossed over the other, wiggled my feet, chewed my pencil…time was like molasses and Jameson was still not in class. The door would open and I would pretend not to look, but it was never him.

  “Hey.” Derek turned around halfway into Mrs. Calvin’s discussion. “I had so much fun this weekend. Your uncle’s place is amazing.”

  “I did too.” Surprisingly, I agreed. “Yeah. He’s pretty great.”

  “What are you doing this weekend, anyway? Maybe we could hang out again?”

  Um…I looked at the corner of the room, hoping Jameson would’ve magically appeared in his seat and only his glance would decide how I responded to Derek’s inquiry. Who was I kidding? There was nothing there, nobody there. Just that hauntingly vacant space reminding me of Jameson’s recurring absence in my world.

  “Like with the whole gang,” he continued, to my utter relief. “Coffee or the beach or something?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” Derek grinned at my reply before turning around.

  I glanced at the clock, willing time to pass. I remembered the letter was still crunched into my pocket and I decided that while Mrs. Calvin was sorting through graded essays would be a good time to unfold it.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-TWO

  I didn’t want to appear needy or too eager. That didn’t excite anyone. I also didn’t want to torment myself by getting my hopes up because the anxiety of failure or embarrassment were already overwhelming me. So, I waited until five minutes after six to step outside and, sure enough, Jameson was leaning against the passenger door of his BMW. A crisp white button-down shirt and dark tailored pants adorned his body. His head hung, staring at his crossed feet, while I began walking toward him.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” I announced, suddenly blushing at the beautiful face staring back at me.

  His arms uncrossed and his body lifted from the car as he greeted me with a hug. I’m going to die. He smelled amazing; salty like beach air and sweet like chocolate.

  “Thank you for meeting me. I thought you’d appreciate my antiquated form of communication.”

  “Notes?”

  “Written form, yes.” He winked at me, placing his hand at the small of my back while guiding me to the passenger side. “Ladies first.”

  “Thank you.” I climbed into the plush leather seats and fastened my seatbelt while watching Jameson glide around the hood to join me inside his car.

  “Thank you for coming with me tonight.” He started the ignition and smoothly pulled away from the curb. “I know you don’t grant second chances.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to. Your heart says it all, Soph. You don’t have the space to put up with bullshit.”

  “True.” I paused, wanting to reply with a sarcastic comment regarding Jameson, but the blush radiating along my cheeks stopped m
e.

  Jameson glanced at me, grinning, while reading my mind. “Then why do you keep giving me second chances?”

  “Um…”

  “It’s okay, Soph.” His right hand lifted from the steering wheel and rested on my knee. “I don’t know why you do either. Maybe you and I are meant to be friends.”

  My eyes wandered from his hand on my knee up to his face while he drove, my mind stuck on Jameson’s words. Meant to be friends. Meant to be? What did that even mean?

  My leg stung with the vacancy left behind once his hand returned to the wheel. Jameson looked focused, determined about driving, or as if he were solving his own theory of relativity. His brows were furrowed and his warm eyes were cold despite the occasional smile I noticed flirting with his lips.

  The deafening silence around us was comforting; free of expectation and need. My cheeks inflated quickly before I sighed, turning my mindless attention toward the window as we drove along the highway. After a few more minutes, Jameson pulled into the parking lot of a hotel along the Gulf with three stories framed by stucco and iron rails along marble steps that guided us into the luxurious lobby. My heels dug into the white marble floor and Jameson turned around, laughing before biting his lips between his teeth.

  “What’s the matter, Soph? What is it?”

  “You didn’t tell me we were coming here.”

  “Here is where we came,” he teased, grinning at me. “Come on.”

  “I can’t afford this. I’m not even dressed appropriately. I’m too young for this place. So are you. Can we just grab a burger somewhere?”

  “Is that what you want?” His hands fell into his pockets as he watched me debate between fast food and posh cuisine.

  “No.” I blushed.

  He took my hand. “Me either. You deserve better than that anyway. It’s on me. Now, come on, Soph.”

  Jameson guided me into the restaurant, walking at my side while we were stuffed into a table next to an open window. It really was romantic, and if I was like thirty, I would probably have appreciated it and been seduced by the dancing curtains, fancy music, and the disgustingly handsome guy sitting across from me.

 

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