Roxie & Griffin: A Found by You Novelette

by Victoria H. Smith

  ROXIE & GRIFFIN

  A Found by You Novelette

  By Victoria H. Smith

  FOUND BY YOU SERIES

  BOOK 0.5

  ROXIE & GRIFFIN: A Found by You Novelette

  Copyright © 2015 by Victoria H. Smith

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Victoria H. Smith

  Cover design by WHAT GEORGIE DID

  Cover photo by The Reed Files

  Editing by Taylor K’s Editing Services

  Layout by Something Simple Ebook Design

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  ~ 1 ~

  Roxie

  They hit the halls hard tonight—they being my neighbors. Their amped up laughter beat a rhythm to the accompaniment of their feet through the barrier of wood and the coat of hardware store paint dividing me from them. I was positive that if I got up and put my hand on the wall I'd feel the vibrations from their conversations.

  They must not have a test tomorrow.

  The very thought hit me night after night. Sunday nights, like tonight, were the loudest and that's when I finally came to a conclusion. They most likely did have something to do tomorrow, a test no doubt like me as midterms were just about to start, but they all just had something else they'd rather be doing. They had something else they could be doing, mainly things of the social sort.

  Closing my textbook, I exchanged it for the laptop on the comforter beside me. I left the bed in one swoop and headed out to the balcony of my one-bedroom apartment. Getting my hands on a one-bedroom was a rarity in campus housing, but I managed to do it.

  I got out to the balcony, and ironically enough, it was quieter out there and I could work in peace. I had my lawn chair all set up; popping a squat, I set the laptop on my thighs. The internal fan warmed them and I shrugged on the hoodie I had laying out there. Though late fall, the weather had treated us well this year. My hoodie was all I needed tonight. I came out here often, which was why I had it already laid out. I loved being outside, but definitely on my own terms. I also needed some semblance of privacy for what I was about to do, and this space provided just that.

  I pushed in white ear buds from the hoodie's pocket, loading up my latest video. The screen filled with images. They were images of me, but not really. I kind of disconnected from the feed before me, the footage of my breasts and thick hips in black lace, because here, in this chair, I was the producer. I, the editor of a show I kept strictly low-key. If I didn't, I couldn’t imagine what people would say. They wouldn't understand. They wouldn't get it.

  But they didn't need to get it.

  The Masked Diva, my video name, stayed within the confines of my apartment and balcony. She was a rush, a wave of fire and excitement. I relived that while I worked, piecing the scenes of requests from fans into a completed work. This video had a school girl theme, funny enough, with white thigh-highs and a checkered skirt. Things like that were easy as I could ease burlesque in there as a tie in. That kept a little bit of me in there. Always a little bit of me. I got lost in the movement of fans and the pretty silk lace I waved in the video, so when the door of another balcony squeaked open above me, I jumped a bit. At the angle I was sitting at, my back to the side of my balcony, I could see right into another balcony just a floor higher and a couple apartments down.

  A girl came out, a blonde one, with her pretty hair cloaked down her back. Phone pressed to her ear, I couldn't make out her face, but I could imagine with her short, white dress and long smooth legs she had a pretty face to go with her shiny locks. She leaned back against the railing on her call and I wasn't surprised to see her up there. That apartment always had parties; the people constantly in my hallway told me that. They always headed to the same place. That apartment. That apartment that had parties. Sometimes they sent flyers around, which was how I figured people knew about them. I found one on the floor of the hallway once while I was taking out the trash with that very apartment number on them.

  Building F. Apartment 7.

  And the parties were always at 11:00 pm. Always.

  It must be 11:00 pm.

  The girl’s light laughter could be heard from above as she tilted her head back and swayed in the fall breeze with her call. Her voice went soft and I could almost hear a smile in it while she spoke. Whoever she was speaking to must have made her happy.

  Hearing that joy, my gaze averted down to my monitor. I didn't want to be nosey or anything, even if she didn't see me down here. Her call was none of my business, didn't concern me, and I meant to go back to what I'd been doing. I really did, but my gaze was brought back by a sound, the screen door opening again.

  "I have to go," came from the girl before ending the call and dropping her arm beside her. Standing upright, she turned her head, pushing her hair over her shoulder with dainty fingers. Because she did, I couldn’t observe her face, but the guy who came out to be with her… well I didn't miss him.

  Because he was beautiful.

  And honestly, that's the first word that came to mind. No matter how silly that sounded. Silly, but true. He had this smile I'd never seen, one that stayed with you, one you hated to look away from because you might miss it, and I didn't look away, although I tried.

  He used it on this girl he was with, and his eyes lighting up indicated the expression just might be genuine. The mouth could lie, but the eyes, those eyes... No, I couldn't imagine anything of the sort. He was happy to see this girl, his tall body moving forward to approach hers. I knew the moment they made contact, the back of her dress creasing against the railing. Putting a hand to the small of her back, he brought her to him. He didn't pin her, he held her. His other hand went to a shoulder, delicate like a lily. Lowering his head, he squeezed her. I couldn't see him kiss her, but the way her body moved into his, head raising in the direction of his mouth, told me all I needed to know. His mass made her look so small in his presence, tiny and doll-like. He pushed long fingers into her hair over her shoulder, and tilting his head, his blond hair offset hers. Before, I found hers so pretty, but now compared to this guy’s, it seemed store-bought. He had a dirty blond that the sun seemed to help create with light streaks, and I could see them well with the building’s soft light fixtures.

  He moved both arms around her, caging her in as he gripped the rails. I gazed away, finally coming to my senses. This couple was none of my business. This guy and his girl.

  Feeling both intrusive and foolish, I went back to my computer, forcing myself to work. My awareness wouldn't turn off, though, my ears humming with every brush and movement of clothing, every soft smack of seeking lips. Honestly, I shouldn't have been put off by the two. They weren't all over each other or anything, but I suddenly felt uncomfortable. The reasons for which I didn't know, especially with how I spent my nights...

  Pulling my ear buds out, I decided to retreat inside but stopped at the sound of the guy's voice. I stopped like I was listening for it, looking up.

  God, I was really losing it.

  "Why are you out here?" he asked, his fingers playing with her hair. He looped them around, his lips turned up while he touched. He couldn't stop smiling, smiling at this girl he was with.

  I
couldn't see her expression, again her back was to me, but I bet it would be hard not to smile back at that, at him. She raised her phone, shaking it. "I had to make a call. And wanted some air."

  He nodded, a piece of that blond hair falling into his eyes. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Hmm. Well, I'm glad I caught you away from all that inside. I wanted to tell you something."

  Her head tilted to the side. "Oh, yeah?"

  "Mmhmm." He reached for her hands, pulling her to him when he got them. He stared down at her for a while, his smile crooked, and the whole setup immediately caught me off guard. Especially when he lifted her hands and kissed the back of them.

  Shit, is this guy about to propose to this girl?

  Really feeling awkward now, I lowered a leg to the balcony, but the chair made a squeak that slammed my eyes shut.

  My heart charged into my throat and I opened my eyes, expecting to be seen. The two still faced each other, my awareness unknown, so I brought my leg back up. I guess I was along for the ride.

  He smiled at her again. "There's a really big game coming up, against St. Charles, and coach told us there'll be scouts there. All the way from Miami. We all thought that was pretty cool, you know? Scouts from Miami being there, but after practice ended, he pulled me aside. He said they'd be there for me. Me. Can you believe that? Well, I couldn't even fuckin' sleep last night I was so excited. And shit, nervous. Anyway, I'd love for you to be there."

  And he brought her hands to his lips again, kissing them once more. "It would mean a lot to me."

  There was so much vulnerably in his voice and his eyes as he stared at the girl; I couldn't help wondering why it was there. It didn't seem like he asked anything unusual or reaching. In fact, his passion for whatever sport he played seemed quite beautiful really, plus the innocence of his request very sweet.

  The girl answered both our questions quickly, both his and mine when she dropped his hands. Like she was done with him. Like she dismissed him.

  Her arms free, she leaned back on the rail facing toward the grassy hedges surrounding our apartment, away from him. "Of course that's what you had to tell me," she said, flicking a dainty wrist up before dropping it. "Basketball. Always basketball."

  Even I twitched at the snap in her tone.

  This guy elicited quite a similar reaction, frowning before going to her other side and resting his arms on the ledge. He faced her, shaking his head. "If you don't wanna come that's fine. It won't hurt my feelings or anything. I'm cool."

  "Okay," she said, not looking at him. "I don't want to go."

  She sounded so cold, cruel.

  He chewed the corner of his lip for a moment before looking away from the person refusing to look at him. He worked large hands, staring down at them. "I'm... I'm sorry I talk about basketball a lot. I guess I just didn't think you minded. Do you mind? If you do, you can just be real with me."

  "Be real with you?" she questioned, finally looking his way. But still, she couldn't be seen from my vantage point.

  I didn't want to see her now.

  "You want me to be real with you?" she finished.

  He nodded. "You ain't gotta lie to me. I'll try not to talk about it so much if it bothers you--"

  "I'm seeing someone," flew from her mouth. Before, when she first came out and I first saw her, I created something in my mind. She had a soft presence I connected her with, a beauty even.

  I'd given her more credit that she deserved. And what was weird was the guy's reaction. He didn't react in the way I thought he would. He simply lowered his head like he'd heard this before.

  Like this had happened to him before.

  He moved a hand over his mouth, not saying anything.

  She seemed to have the only words he needed.

  "It's Speedy," she said, and that finally elicited a reaction. A light laugh came from his throat, but it wasn't one of humor. It wasn't because it was dry and he swallowed right after it.

  He stood upright, shaking his head. "I can't believe this."

  "Why?" she asked, her heels coming to settle against the balcony when she stood straight. She placed her hands on her hips. "Because of who it is?"

  "No," he countered, his chin going stiff. I didn't like his anger. It looked so foreign on his face. He bent to her, pointing. "I keep letting you do this. You keep fucking doing this and I let you. I keep fucking letting you every time like things will be different."

  And just as quickly, she got up in his face and I knew I'd never imagine any type of beauty in her again. I couldn't after seeing her act so ugly to this guy.

  "Then let's not fucking do it anymore."

  She left him there after those words, going back inside, and he took a step in that direction, like it was automatic for him, his natural reaction to go with her. He decided against it, though, pulling back, but then he turned.

  He turned to me.

  Feeling exposed, I lowered my head, raising my knees to put my monitor up in front of my face. Even still I could feel him, his gaze was like a warm blanket. One that wrapped me up, one that wouldn't let go of me. So as soon as he left, I knew immediately. He went inside, the screen door closing with a snap, and I closed my monitor. I couldn't help thinking one thing after he left.

  Poor guy.

  ~ 2 ~

  Griffin

  "I'm late... Griffin."

  She was late.

  Late.

  A girl I'd met barely a month ago was telling me this. A girl whose name I had to be reminded of in order to match it to her face. Ryan, my roommate, had helped me. He'd been there this morning when I got the call from her while I toasted a couple Pop-Tarts. He was good like that with his memory. Me, not so much.

  Late. Late.

  A girl I didn't remember. I didn't remember because I'd met her only that one time a month ago and hadn't seen her since. It was a weird time, a bad time, hell a stupid time. Stupid, I knew, because of what this girl told me now. Her coffee cup was empty in front of her, mine long cold in front of me.

  Late. She was late.

  "Did you hear me, Griffin?" she asked from underneath brown eyelashes. Brown. She was a brunette. Not a blonde like her hair led a guy to believe. She probably knew that, though. She probably knew that.

  I blinked, my dry eyes telling me I hadn't in a long time. "Uh, yeah," I told her, moving a hand over my mouth. "How did it happen?"

  I knew that was a douchy thing to say, a dumb-ass thing to say as a first response to what she’d just told me. I wished I'd said something different. My mind just wasn't working properly at the moment. What did a girl expect a guy to say after telling him such a thing? A guy she'd met only once, at a party. Another one of my stupid parties. I remembered that night well.

  It was the night Tanya broke up with me.

  This girl with me now, Sarah, sat in front of me quietly, her hand around her empty coffee cup. I needed to say something, something better.

  "I mean, uh..." I started, moving my hand to rub the back of my neck now. Raising a hand, Sarah cut me off, saving me from myself.

  "It's okay," she said waving me off, but it wasn't. She looked so scared; her eyes puffy and her cheeks red. She blew out a breath, a flurry of dyed blonde breezing up in front of her face. "I missed a pill or two. And that night I was so drunk I know I didn't remember to take it. I remember you using a condom. It must have broken or something."

  That's something I remembered as well, that I wore one. Though, damn, barely did I remember.

  I threaded my fingers through my hair. We'd both been wasted that night. The drinks rolled for me, one after the other, and that I remembered crystal clear. I'd lost control. I had lost control of myself and slept with a girl despite being as drunk as I was. The thought alone raised the bile in my throat; it turned my stomach with a wave of nausea to know that I'd let the situation happen at all. That wasn't me. That wasn't...

  I shook my head at myself. I no doubt looked as sick as I felt and I couldn't be that. No
t right now with her. I dropped my hand, manning the fuck up. "Do we know for sure if you're...?" I tried to say it, but found it hard at the moment.

  Her eyes glanced away from mine and my stomach turned more. "I took a test, a home one. It was positive."

  Christ...

  I swallowed. "Okay. All right."

  "But they can give you false positives. I won't know for sure until I go to the health center. They can tell me there."

  A person at the health center. They could tell her, tell us, if our lives would be changed forever.

  They could tell me if my planned future was over before it even began.

  *

  "Hey, darlin,'" Gram said into the phone, her voice bright and out of breath. At this hour, she'd no doubt came in from a ride. Yes, my well-over-sixty grandma rode horses at our family's ranch back home in Texas. Pretty fuckin' awesome. "I was hoping you'd call me. How'd your midterms ago? You took them a while back, right?"

  With ball and everything, I guess I had forgotten to mention them. It's the "everything" that I was ashamed of. I'd been burying myself in practice outside of practice. I had a lot of restless energy, a lot a fire I needed to put somewhere. When I wasn’t practicing, there were parties. There were women.

  Fuck, what's wrong with me?

  I put on a happy expression, hoping that reflected in my voice as I answered my Gram. She could read me and my brothers like the romance novels she devoured. "I did good actually," I told her, knowing I had done decent. I made B's and only a C or two. I wasn't a rocket scientist or anything when it came to the school part of my college career, but I wasn't dumb either. I was an average student and had been through high school.

  "Oh, good, good, honey. I'm happy to hear it."

  Some ruckus sounded in the background and my Aunt Robin’s voice could be made out. A slew of curses came next from her, and the next thing I knew I heard my Gram sighing.