Heart Waves
First printing, 2012
Copyright © 2012 by Danielle
Sibarium
Cover art copyright © by Andrew Gioulis
Cover photograph copyright © by Andrew Gioulis
Book design by Andrew Gioulis
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the publisher.
The persons and events portrayed in this work of fiction are the creations of the author, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Published by: KFR Communications, LLC
148
Hawkin
Rd
New Egypt, NJ 08533
Publisher’s Note: The author and publisher have taken care in preparation of this book but make no expressed or implied warranty of any kind and assume no responsibility for errors or omissions. No liability is assumed for incidental or consequential damages in connection with or arising out of the use of the information contained herein.
Print
ISBN-13: 978-1475143201
Print
ISBN-10: 1475143206
Printed in the United States of America
www.kfrcommunications.com
For my very own Computer Geek, Alex.
I love you now and forever!
I would like to thank all the people who have influenced and encouraged me through the years, friends and teachers from elementary school through college. Thank you to members of the writing groups I have been in past and present, you have always nudged me forward when I stared in the eyes of self-doubt. Thank you to the members of the Jackson Writer’s Group for encouraging me to take the next step and helping me to fine tune and
tighten
my work. Thank you to my beta readers for reading and being vocal with opinions and suggestions. Thank you to Kelly
Kanis
for editing and keeping me true to my characters.
Most of all, thank you to my husband for always believing in me.
Lies.
Lies.
Lies.
He was covered in lies. They oozed off him like slick, goopy slime. As if I didn’t already know Steve couldn’t be trusted. I always thought of him as a pompous ass, especially after our one and only date.
But that was years ago.
Steve wouldn’t meet my eyes. I hadn’t spoken to him since my freshman year of high school. I wondered if it he even remembered me. I remembered him all too well, Mr. Captain of the baseball team with the perfect smile. The thought of his cold, wet lips and octopus arms still made my skin crawl.
Regardless, he looked past me, around me, like I wasn’t good enough to look at. I could feel his apprehension so I knew I’d get him. I’d get him good. Call him out for being the jerk he was and embarrass him in front of his friends. I just needed to concentrate.
I closed my eyes, focused on blocking out the music and clarifying the image in my mind. I fingered the gold bracelet interpreting the words and images flowing from it.
“You just came back from someplace warm,” I declared.
With a snide look on his face the muscle-bound jock shook his head and spoke skeptically to the crowd of onlookers, “Like most of the country isn’t warm in July. This is bogus,” he chortled, still trying to best me.
He thought his wise cracks were enough to intimidate me, to make me feel stupid and insecure so I would shut up. He wanted to end it here and now. Better to make me look bad before it went any further. Not going to happen. Not tonight. If I had to be miserable, so did
he
.
“I see a beach and water . . .”
“Hard one.
Like we don’t live at the Jersey shore.”
“Not here,” I said a bit forcefully. “The water is clear blue, so it’s not in this state.”
“
Oooh
,” I heard someone jeer. “She’s onto you.”
“Shut up,” Mr. Macho snapped at his buddy while reaching for the bracelet I wasn’t ready to release. “You probably told her.”
“You’re there with a beautiful girl,” I continued.
“Long blonde hair.
Her name begins with the letter E.”
“You were with Emma?” A petite brunette bellowed while pounding her fist into his arm.
“Busted!” someone shouted before bursting into a fit of laughter.
“You don’t believe this bull, do you?” he pleaded.
With tears in her eyes, the girl rushed off, “You’re a shit!”
Steve snatched his bracelet and rushed after her, “Shari, wait. I haven’t seen her in months. She must be a friend of Emma’s or my shit-head friends are playing a joke. When I find out which one of you set this up . . .” the rest of the threat trailed off.
“That’s what you get for two timing,” I called watching him push through the sea of people. If he didn’t remember me before the reading, he’d never forget me now. I brought my hands together, “All right, show’s over.”
A few moans and grumbles, then suddenly I could breathe. A wave of relief washed over me as the oppressive group surrounding me thinned. My right eye burned, and the aching in my head had already begun. I knew I had to stop before the sharp blinding pain ensued.
I turned and looked for my best friend Grace. No sign of her. I shook my head. I didn’t even want to come to Mike’s stupid party, let alone be the entertainment, but she insisted.
What exactly she found appealing about Mike was beyond me, but Grace had been crushing on him all through high school. She would do just about anything he asked; only before tonight he never did.
Earlier in the day, while life was still bliss, we were just two best friends lying in the sun with lemon juice in our hair (Grace’s attempt at natural highlights) listening to music. When Mike sauntered over poolside to extend the invitation, Grace turned into groupie girl, and it took her approximately one second to accept. I was biding time until I could convince her to leave.
“One more,” the voice caught me.
Stopped me dead in my tracks.
For a moment the room went silent, the people disappeared. All that existed was the soft soothing voice.
“C’mon, please,” he spoke again, and I wished he’d never stop talking so I could forever hear the sound of his melodious voice.
Before I could refuse, a small, gold ring was placed in my hand. I stood frozen, feeling as if someone connected a live wire to my heart. White electricity surged throughout my body.
I looked up to see what creature bore such exhilarating energy. His soft, golden-brown eyes captivated me. They were alive with laughter and mystery. I closed my eyes, barely able to focus and stroked the ring with my thumb. I took a deep breath, taking in the scent of his cologne. Fighting the sudden lump in my throat, I blurted out, “Romeo and Juliet.”
“Excuse me?” he asked as he smiled, confused.
“It’s like Romeo and Juliet,” I recovered, tracing the diamond chip initial on the ring. “You believe you are in love.”
“She’s my Juliet?” he asked with a suspicious look.
“No, she’s your Rosalind,” I felt the need to explain, hoping to keep him nearby, “the girl Romeo thought he loved. Remember though, it was unrequited.”
“Really?” he asked egging me on, seeming to enjoy the conversation.
“Yes,” I continued with a nod, “then he met Juliet, and Rosalind turned into nothing more than a distant memory. I’m sure you know the rest.”
“Do you know who my Juliet is?” he asked with a smile. “Have I met her yet?”
“Yes.” I answered.
“Hmm. Someone I know.” He looked around the crowd mischievously, a delicious smile on his lips, “Will we get married and live happily ever after?”
I shook my head sadly. “No.” I paused a moment, and found my breath. “You’re going to break my heart.”
I reached for his hand, his strong, warm hand, and took hold of it. I didn’t want to ever let go. I placed the ring in his palm, closed his fingers around it, turned and walked away.