Meant to Be (8 page)

He asked me what I was thinking. I tried to
put it into words. I explained the confusion, and how all this just
seemed unreal.

“I know. Yesterday when I first saw you, I
felt the same way. I was so shocked. Here was a girl, I had only
dreamed about, sitting just mere feet from me. At first I was going
to ignore you, but that was before our hands met. That’s when I
knew for sure that I wasn’t hallucinating. Your touch was so
familiar, and at the same time so new. Here I was, acting like some
junior high guy who had just met some hot model; instead of the
professional I was supposed to be. I tried to ignore you through
the rest of class, but by the end, I knew it was too late.”

He brought up an important point that I had
almost forgotten.

“How did you wind up at my high school?”

“School has always been easy for me. I
skipped most of elementary school and graduated at the top of my
class when I was fifteen. I received my bachelor’s degree in two
and half years. I had to work my tail off to convince the board of
trustees to let me use St. Briggets for my thesis.”

Okay, so now I knew how we had both wound up
at St. Briggets, but it didn’t make it any less bizarre. The fact
that he was still an intern concerned me though.

“Have you always lived in Santa Cruz?”

“No, I lived in Arizona when I was
younger.

“How long have you been here in Santa
Cruz?”

“About five years. My dad and I moved here
after my mom died.”

“Why Santa Cruz?” I asked, sensing what his
answer would be.

“I was drawn here.”

I wasn’t surprised. It made crazy sense that
he would be drawn here also. I had been drawn here, Sam was here,
and now he was too. What did this all mean? What was going on? I
leaned forward and placed my head in my hands.

“What’s the matter?”

“I met a girl yesterday at school. She was in
your class yesterday with me, her name is Sam. Do you remember
her?”

He laughed. “I didn’t notice anyone
yesterday, except you.”

“Why, what does she have to do with us?”

Us
. The way he said that gave me goose
bumps. I liked it that he thought of us as a pair.

“She and I have a lot of things in common,
too many to be a coincidence.”

“What do you mean? What kinds of things?”

I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure
if I was ready to tell him about all my downfalls. Would it ruin
his illusions of me if he knew about all my quirks? I had always
been such a private person, and in the course of twenty-four hours,
I had already spilled my guts out to one person.

He seemed to sense my inner turmoil. “You can
trust me,” He said in a quiet voice.

“I know,” I said. “I just don’t want to
change your opinion of me.”

“There’s nothing you could say that would
ever change the way I feel about you.”

I took a deep breath and told him everything.
I first filled him in on my childhood, and how my adoptive parents
had figured out my sensitivity to emotions. I told him how I had
always been a loner. How I found comfort with him in my dreams when
my dad died. I told him how I had always hoped that he was really
out there, and not just some person that would only visit me in my
dreams. I told him about the pull this city had on me. Then I told
him about Sam, and how she seemed to be the carbon copy of me. How
we felt a connection to each other that was similar to ours, but
not as strong. I let all the words pour out of me while he sat
there quietly holding my hand.

I looked down at the uneven boards and
watched as a fat bug struggled over the cracks between the boards.
Every so often, half of its body would fall between the groves and
it would flounder around trying to work its way back out.

“Sam even suspected that you were the guy
from my dreams,” I continued on a little self-consciously.

“How did she know that?”

“Because, she has dreams just like ours.”

“What do you mean she has dreams like us?”
Mark asked amazed.

I told him everything we had discussed the
night before. About having the same kind of dream, and that Sam had
already met her dream guy.

I could tell that he was having a hard time
believing me, just like I had with Sam.

“It had never occurred to me that there were
other people out there just like us,” he said, trying to grasp what
he had just heard.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you something else
bizarre.” He raised his eyebrows at my choice of words.

I laughed. He was right of course; all of
this was turbo-bizarre.

I filled him in on the circumstances
surrounding both of us being left when we were young.

A few minutes passed in silence.

I looked up at him to see what he was
thinking. I was concerned when I saw the troubled look on his face.
Had I finally sprung too much information on him? I myself had a
hard time dealing with all of it. It was a lot for someone to
digest.

“Well I wasn’t abandoned, but my mom’s been
dead since I was three,” he finally said in an odd voice.

“Are you sensitive to emotions too?” I asked,
probing further.

“No, but I’m strong.”

“You mean from lifting weights, strong?”

“No, I’ve never had to lift weights. I’m not
Hulk strong, more like; I just have the feeling that I could
protect myself in a fight with anyone, and come out the victor.
Plus, I was the only one in karate class who could break the wooden
board the first time I tried,” he said with a chuckle.

“Strong, hum, I like the sound of that,” I
murmured.

“You do, do you?” He said with amusement as
he stood up. He took his hand and touched the side of my face. His
touch sent shock waves through me; it felt like every bone in my
body had liquefied.

“I know this is all overwhelming, but I am so
glad you’re here,” he said simply.

“So am I.”

“I better head home. I need to get ready for
class,” he said pulling away.

I frowned. I had forgotten for a brief moment
that he worked at my school. What were we going to do about
that?

Mark saw my frown. “What’s the matter?” He
asked.

“You’re practically my teacher. I’m sure the
Dean frowns on teachers dating students,” I stated.

Mark smiled in relief. “Krista, I’m only on a
two month stint here. I don’t think they can tell me who I can and
can’t date. I mean, we shouldn’t flaunt it or anything, but I don’t
think it’s that big of a deal. If it makes you more comfortable we
can keep it secret, so other students don’t find out.”

That could work. I wasn’t crazy about the
idea of the other students finding out, but if we kept it secret it
could work. We could make it through the next couple of months
keeping our relationship quiet. Lying to my mom would be a
different story, but I wasn’t ready to lay all of this on her now.
We had always had a no lie policy and I knew from a young age, as
long as I told the truth, punishments would be minimal. I would
have to categorize this as more of a need to know basis.

“I think your mom’s up,” he said. “I better
go if we are going to try to keep this secret.” He ran his hand
down the side of my face one last time, and with one more backwards
look, he turned and walked off. He was halfway down the street,
when my mom opened the front door.

“Honey, were you talking to that boy?” she
asked, looking at Mark’s retreating back.

“Yeah, he goes to my school. I saw him from
my bedroom window and I came down to see what he was up to.”

“Krista, you know it’s dangerous to come
outside and talk to strangers. You should have come and got
me.”

“He’s okay mom, I met him in school
yesterday.”

“What did he want?”

“Nothing,” I mumbled heading upstairs. “I
need to get ready for school.”

I felt a wave of guilt starting to consume
me. I hurried up the stairs trying to control the strong emotion.
Need to know, need to know, need to know
, I chanted to
myself as I reached my room. Sitting on my bed, I waited for the
guilt to begin to leave my body. Chanting had helped, as long as I
was protecting someone, it was easier to curb my emotions.

I lay back on my bed as the last waves left
me. Feline jumped up on the bed next to me, hoping I would scratch
him between his ears. “I met my dream guy,” I told him, knowing my
secret was safe with him. “He’s as perfect as I always imagined he
would be.” Feline purred loudly as if he understood what I was
telling him.

Chapter 5

Sam was waiting for me in front of the school
like we had planned the night before. I got out of the car and
waved her over. I might have to keep Mark a secret, but I could
throw my mom a bone and introduce her to my first real friend.

“Sam, this is my mom, Cindy Miller,” I said
as I introduced them.

“Hi. Mrs. Miller, it’s a pleasure to meet
you,” Sam said in an enthusiastic voice.

I could tell right away that my mom was taken
in by Sam. It was hard not to respond to her enthusiasm.

“We better go mom. We’ll see you after
school.” We had made plans the previous night to get together again
after school.

“All right, it was nice to meet you, Sam.”
Bye honey, I’ll see you guys after school.” With one last wave she
drove off.

“Your mom’s very nice,” Sam commented, as we
headed toward the tree where we sat yesterday morning.

“Thanks, I think so too.”

“So, I’m dying to know….was I right?”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure
out what she was talking about. “Yeah, it was him, and the dream
was fantastic all the way up until the end.”

“He thinks there’s more to our
connections…”

“Whoa backup, when did you talk to him? Can
you talk to each other in your dreams now?” confusion colored Sam’s
voice.

“I didn’t have a chance to tell you. I talked
to him this morning. He came over after we woke up from the
dream.”

“Oh my gosh, you have to tell me everything.
Was he everything you expected? Is the connection between you still
strong? What did you talk about?”

I laughed. “Slow down, I’ll tell you
everything.”

“Ouch!”

I was interrupted by a sharp stinging pain on
the side of my head. Something had struck me hard on my right
temple. Looking down, I saw a softball lying on the grass beside
me.

“Sorry about that,” a guy said, jogging up to
me.

He didn’t look sorry though; on the contrary,
he looked quite pleased with himself.

“Do you want me to kiss it and make it
better?” He said in a suggestive voice.

“Oh, brother!” Sam said with disgust.

“What’s it to you
fridge
? He said with
contempt as he turned to look at Sam.

“So, what do you think, will a kiss make it
better?” he asked, trying to lay on the charm.

“No thanks,” I said with disgust, and turned
my back on him.

“Hey, what’s your problem? I was just trying
to be friendly.”

“I have enough friends,” I said dismissively,
waiting for him to leave.

Instead he looked at me with a nasty look on
his face. “Oh I get it. You’re not into guys,” he said, looking
suggestively between Sam and me.

“Go bother…..” my words caught in my throat
as another person joined our group. I looked up to see Mark
standing beside me, and he was not happy.

He had caught the end of the exchange, and I
could feel the anger vibrating off of him.

“Maybe a trip to the Dean’s office will clean
up your language,” he said.

“Is that a threat?” the boy asked in a
mocking voice. “Maybe the Dean would like to hear how you’ve taken
an interest in our new student. Everyone’s talking about how the
two of you were ogling each other in class. No, I don’t think
you’ll be talking to the Dean anytime soon,” he said in the same
mocking voice as he turned and sauntered off.

Mark started to go after him. “Don’t,” I said
in a low voice, putting my hand on his arm.

My touch stopped him in his tracks. The
connection was as strong as ever. “Everyone’s watching, you have to
walk away and act like nothing happened,” I said in a low voice.
“Otherwise our secret will be out sooner than we wanted.”

Mark looked at me one last time, glancing at
the spot where the softball had struck my head.

“It’s fine. I’ll go to the nurse’s station
and get some ice,” I said. “Besides, the nurse and I are already
friends.”

Mark reached up his hand, as if to touch the
sore spot.

I took a step back. “No you can’t, I said
glancing around. “Everyone’s still watching.” Please go to class,
I’ll meet you later,” I pleaded, suddenly choking back tears. The
pain in his eyes was almost too much to bear.

Finally, he walked away and I let out a bent
up breath. “So much for keeping it a secret,” I said to Sam in a
shaky voice.

Sam had remained silent during the whole
confrontation, but I could tell she was going to burst if I didn’t
fill her in on all the details.

“Come on, I’ll explain on the way to the
clinic,” I said, grabbing onto her elbow, for once my emotions
behaved.

By the time we reached the clinic, I had
given Sam a basic idea of what Mark and I had discussed earlier
that morning.

“You again,” said the same elderly nurse from
the day before. “What can I do for you today?”

“I got hit in the head by a softball and I
think it may have cut my head a little. I was wondering if I could
get some ice.”

“Come around the counter and let me check it
over.”

I walked around the counter and sat on the
padded stool the nurse pulled up for me.

The nurse clucked as she checked over my
head.

“You were right, you have a cut and a small
bump, where it hit your head,” she said as she placed a wet cold
washcloth to the wound.