Read Meant to Be Online

Authors: Tiffany King

Tags: #Romance, #Love, #Angels, #Paranormal, #Young Adult, #dreams, #teen, #YA, #fallen angels, #tiffany king, #meant to be

Meant to Be (5 page)

BOOK: Meant to Be
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I shrugged it off not wanting to alienate
myself with my new friend. There was no reason to show what a freak
I was.

“Believe me; I’ve felt that way many times
over the years.” Sam said so empathetically, that for a brief
moment I had the crazy notion that maybe she did know what I was
going through.

I shook my head at my stupidity. I had once
tried to look it up on the Internet, and many diseases showed
similar symptoms to mine, but none of them were a perfect match.
The doctors my parents took me to ran countless tests, but
everything turned out inconclusive. They had planned on taking me
to the Mayo clinic, but I pleaded with them to just give it a rest.
I was sick of being poked and probed. After that, my parents tried
to make light of my sensitivity issues and told me I was one of a
kind. I had come to terms with the fact that I would always be a
freak, and as long as I didn’t humiliate myself by throwing-up in
front of others I could live with it.

I thought about confiding in her just how out
of control my emotions could get, but figured I would wait before I
showed my true
freakish emotions
around her.

Sensing my mixed feelings, Sam changed the
subject.

“So have you lived in Santa Cruz your whole
life?” She asked.

“Um, no. We moved here a few weeks ago. I
like it a lot and the weather is unreal.”

“Yeah it’s definitely easy to get used to.
I’ve been here for awhile and have become quite spoiled wearing
shorts most of the year. Of course I don’t get much of chance to
wear them here at this
prep party
,” she said with a slight
edge.

“You don’t like it here?”

“Well, it’s definitely not my ideal school
choice, but my foster mom went here, and she was so excited when I
got in, I didn’t want to bust her bubble.”

“Foster mom?’ I asked, not wanting to
intrude.

“Yeah, it’s no big deal. I’ve been in foster
care pretty much my whole life. This new set is pretty cool though,
and it looks like they’re going to keep me until I’m legal, which
is sweet because it’s a drag to constantly pack up your crap to
move to a new location.”

I could tell it wasn’t quite as blasé as she
was making it, but I didn’t push the subject.

Briiiiing
.

I jumped as the bell above my cot rang.

I glanced at my watch, shocked; we had spent
all of our homeroom period talking. I was never one to skip class,
so I was surprised that I didn’t feel guilty about skipping. Maybe
it was the fact that this seemed to be so much more important than
some class. After all, I had just met a girl who I could finally
relate to. The mere idea of it was too cool.

We scrambled to our feet, grabbing our book
bags off the wood floors. With wide smiles on our faces, we both
raced out the door together.

Even though the clinic was hopping with
students trying to get out of class, the school nurse noticed our
hasty departure and yelled after us.

“You girls better hurry.”

“We will,” Sam yelled back over her
shoulder.

“What’s your first class?” Sam asked, trying
to catch her breath after we finally slowed down.

“Let me see,” I said, pulling my schedule out
of the front pocket of my book bag. I handed it over to her.

“Oh good, we share all the same classes,
except fourth period. That works out great; fourth period is just
before lunch. We can meet back up and eat lunch together.”

I was relieved to hear that Sam shared most
of my classes. Though I was a little disappointed our schedules
didn’t match up completely, but beggars can’t be choosers.

I glanced at my schedule and was relieved
that I at least had Reading for fourth period. Reading was of
course my best subject, and at least I could bury my nose in a book
during class. Most reading teachers expected the same thing, read a
story and either write a report on it, or answer a series of
questions.

Sam glanced over and looked at my
schedule.

“At least you have Mrs. Rod for reading.
She’s a piece of cake as long as you bring your own book. She
assigns an essay every six weeks on the book your reading, grades
it, then averages the grades together, and that’s your grade for
the class,” she said confirming my thoughts. “That’s if you like to
read.”

“I love to read,” I replied once again,
surprised that here was something else we had in common. I could
tell by the look on Sam’s face that she was surprised also.

We made it to first period just as the bell
rang. Sam slid in her seat in the back of the room, while I waited
up at the front for the teacher.

As the room filled up, I could feel the many
stares of the other students in the class. I felt my face start to
flush as I studied the ground. I hated being the center of
attention and would have welcomed it if the ground opened up and
swallowed me whole. Then I remembered Sam was in the class, I
looked up and met the many stares head on. I scanned the faces;
finally settling on Sam’s and felt my panic begin to subside as I
realized that for the first time ever that I was not alone in
school.

As if she could read my mind, Sam smiled at
me and made a crooked face at the back of all the students watching
me.

I almost laughed out loud, but managed to
stifle it before it could erupt out of me. I couldn’t contain the
wide smile that spread across my face.

I noticed that a few of the boys in the class
sat up straighter and looked at me appreciatively like my smile was
for them. More than a few of them leered at me in a more vulgar
way.

I choked back a half-laugh at their looks; I
wouldn’t give them the time of day. I was only interested in one
guy, and though I knew it was juvenile to carry a torch for some
dream guy, I couldn’t help myself.

I was assigned to a seat that was in the back
and two rows away from Sam’s. I was relieved that it was in the
back of the room. My moment of bravery had faded and I was more
than ready for everyone to stop staring at me.

First period dragged. I had taken all the
math classes required at my previous school, but St. Briggets
expected me to take four years of math to graduate. The math was
easy and I could have done the problems in my sleep. I finished the
twenty problems with half the period still remaining. I glanced at
Sam; she had her nose already buried in a book she had pulled out
of her bag.

Usually, I would pretend to continue working
so that I would not attract attention to myself, but as I watched
Sam reading, I decided to follow suit. I was going to try to turn
over a new leaf and stop trying to fade into the background so
much.

With Sam’s help, I made it through the next
two classes, and by fourth period I was ready to tackle it alone.
Sam’s positive attitude was beginning to rub off on me and I felt
surprisingly confident. We had sat next to each other in the last
two classes and passed the time by sneaking notes back and
forth.

We split up outside Mrs. Rod’s class.

“I’ll meet you in front of the cafeteria,”
Sam said as she hurried off to her own class.

Mrs. Rod was at her desk when I entered the
room. She handed me back my schedule and explained the simple class
rules, and then told me to choose a seat anywhere.

In typical fashion, I chose a seat in the
back of the room and pulled out my current book. Thumbing it open
to the page I left off on, I started to read until I realized I
really wasn’t paying attention to it.

My mind was preoccupied by the things Sam and
I seemed to share. It was just a little wacky that we had so much
in common. Like the fact that she had been in foster care, and I
was adopted. It seemed odd that both of us were being raised by
people other than our real parents. That, combined with the fact
that Sam claimed to have
emotional issues
also… Were adopted
kids just more sensitive, and did I just have a stronger case of
it?

“He’s a babe,” a short mousy looking girl all
but squealed to her seat mate. “Have you seen him?” she asked.

My thoughts were interrupted by a
conversation going on in front of me.

“Yeah, I saw him. He’s totally hot, he looks
barely older than us, but he has to be older, otherwise he wouldn’t
be able to intern here. I bet he’s no older than twenty though,”
replied her seatmate.

“I don’t care how old he is,” piped in a
third voice, “I would love to spend some quality detention time
with him.”

I couldn’t believe they were talking about an
intern like that, he was practically their teacher. I thought it
showed bad taste to be panting after some teacher. I was raised to
respect my teachers and to treat them like you would treat a
parent.

I shot a look of disgust at them and then
re-opened my book. This time I was able to lose myself in the pages
and before I knew it the bell was ringing.

I gathered up my things and headed out of the
room ready to distance myself from the gossiping girls. They had
talked through the whole period, and though I had been able to tune
out their words, their annoying voices were harder to ignore.

Sam was waiting for me right where she said
she would be.

“Do you buy or brown bag it?” she asked.

“Brown bag,” I said, holding up my lunch for
her to see.

“Good! Me too, let’s eat outside, it’s a nice
day.”

Everyone had the same idea and many of the
seats were taken up outside. We headed for a big oak tree and
settled under it.

“We could never do this at my old
school.”

“Where was your old school?” Sam asked.

“A pinpoint town on a map, called
Bozeman.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s way up north in Monta….”

“Oh my God, he is so gorgeous…” squealed a
nearby voice.

I barely controlled my groan.
Great
.
The gossip hounds were back and they were obviously still talking
about the new intern.

Sam laughed at the look on my face. “I see
you’ve met our
Lush Trio
,” she said in a low voice.

I let out a loud unexpected snort of
laughter. My burst momentarily snagged the attention of the trio.
They turned and glared at me for a moment, like I was unworthy to
interrupt their conversation.


Lush Trio
, that’s perfect,” I told
Sam in a quieter voice.

“It fits them to a tee. They are always
discussing some guy or texting each other pictures of some guy that
grabs their attention.”

I looked over and sure enough, they were
huddled around one of their phones, obviously looking at the
picture of the
Hot Intern
. I was surprised they had their
cell phones out. In my old school, cell phones had to stay in your
book bag all day with the ringer off. If a teacher saw your phone
out, or heard it ringing, they would confiscate it.

I commented on this to Sam. “Oh they tried to
set the same rules here, but after a few angry calls from some of
the parents, the Dean changed his mind. You’re still supposed to
have them off during class time, but nobody listens, they just turn
the volume down.”

“My mom would have a stroke if she caught me
ogling a teacher or an
intern
,” I said a little louder than
intended.

My remark gained the attention of the trio
once again.

Sam and I snorted at the trio’s obvious
disgust as they stalked away. I was definitely not winning any
brownie points with them.

After the trio’s departure, Sam and I talked
about trivial things. Favorite books, movies, and other likes and
dislikes. We were amazed at the many ways we were alike, and joked
that we could be long lost twins, separated at birth.

“I’d buy it if we looked even remotely
alike,” Sam quipped.

She had a point. I was nearly 5’ 8” almost 7”
taller than her. Not to mention the fact that she was cute and
petite and looked like she belonged on some football field,
cheering her team on. Plus, she had movie star brown hair that
swung from her shoulder like an advertisement for a shampoo
commercial. Her skin glowed from a natural tan, which helped to
accentuate her warm brown eyes. If she was taller, she would have
made a great model. I felt extremely plain, just standing next to
her.

The bell rang as we finished our lunch.
Tossing our trash in a wooden trash barrel, we headed toward our
fifth period class. We would finally meet the much talked about
young male intern that had all the girls buzzing throughout the
school.

Sam and I choose seats together. Sam pulled
out her book while I took out a notebook.

This was my first world history class, and I
was looking forward to it. I was a secret history buff and enjoyed
learning about other countries. My mom and I often watched the
History channel together at night.

I looked over at Sam to ask her a question,
but she was already engrossed in her book. Deciding not to
interrupt her, I pulled out a pen and started doodling in the
margin of my paper.

I knew the instant the new intern walked in
the door. Every girl except for Sam and I seemed to sigh. “Oh
brother,” I muttered without looking up.

Sam stifled a snigger as she continued to
read, she had also heard the sigh of adoration from all the
girls.

“All right, no books needed today. Instead,
we’re going to do a warm up exercise to get to know each other,”
said a warm masculine voice.

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

I looked up in surprise; the voice seemed so
familiar. I raised my eyes and found them locked on the warmest
brown eyes I had ever seen. They were like pools of hot melted
chocolate. I felt like I was swimming in them. Finally pulling my
eyes away from his, I scanned the rest of his face. All the girls
were right; he was the most handsome man I had ever seen. His lips
were full and inviting with cheekbones just high enough for his
perfectly chiseled face to give him a gentle ruggedness. I wondered
if his golden honey colored skin was as soft and warm as it looked.
His light auburn hair was just long enough to run my fingers
through.

BOOK: Meant to Be
5.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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