Vision Read Free Page B

expecting to socialize while sipping coffee
and reading The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende – one of my
first Lit assignments, and second read of the novel. But here we
both were in the dining hall.
    His charisma could have blown open a safe.
The single eyebrow piercing in his left brow and confident grin
radiated edginess that was off-putting. Caught somewhere between
jock, artist and rebel, he managed to coax a shy smile from me.
“Layla Stone.”
    His hand extended to shake mine, which he
continued to hold as he pulled a chair over from another table,
assuming I wanted him to sit.
    Hhmm. A cocky bastard.
    “Mind if I sit?” He asked, after he was
seated.
    “You already did.” I fired back, widening my
smile.
    Also for the record, I never attract this
much male attention.
    The palms of his hands held his face. He
studied my features, wasting no time moving in for the kill, making
my heart do somersaults. I resigned to the fact that my pheromones
must be over-active from the move, or guys were more appealing
here, or I was loosing my mind.
    “Where are you from?” He asked
inquisitively.
    “Portland. Oregon.”
    “Fascinating.” He shot me a slanted
smile.
    “Not really,” I answered dryly. “More like
wet and boring.”
    Undiscouraged, he only chuckled at my
response then chatted freely about himself while I listened.
Andre’s family was a well-to-do London clan with high hopes for
their son. As with most sixteen year-olds, he didn’t have a filled
out sense of purpose yet, but evidently his father had already set
the bar high for his only male offspring. His easygoing demeanor
was bent with distraction, struggling with some sort of conflicting
thoughts or emotions I couldn’t read. Aside from reading the
Brown’s, no one else was coming through. Certainly not hot
guys.
    “You’re beautiful. Go out with me.
Saturday.”
    Did I miss a chunk of conversation?
    That was more like a statement than a
question.
    And are there no verbal filters here?
    I felt myself blush. “Um, Andre…we just met.
I don’t really know you and I live with…”
    Before I finished his hand raised. “Stop
there, pretty girl. The entire purpose of a date is to continue to
get to know each other, right?” He didn’t pause long enough for a
response. “And surely your host family doesn’t expect you to join a
convent, do they?”
    He was cute and mildly fascinating – maybe
more than mildly – a bit…dangerous? Provocative? Stuart’s face
flashed before me, giving me pause from the unanswered proposition
hovering over my head. Part of me wanted to decline for no logical
reason, except the thought of Stuart who was…perfection and likely
unattainable and who had not asked me out yet and why would he.
    And while we commuted to and from school
together, he kept his life private, opting for small talk and jokes
during the short drive. Since Sienna road shotgun, I mostly kept to
myself in the back, or at least pretended to while I stared at the
back of his head and eavesdropped, listening to every lush
syllable...
    “Well?”
    I whistled out a small rush of air. “Okay,” I
smiled, “Let’s go out Saturday.”
    His hands hit the table tapping a few quick
beats. “Yes. Good.” He jumped to his feet. “Pick you up at the
Brown’s at, say, seven?”
    I nodded, watching him strut away, feathers
spread out in full peacock conceit, knowing he had won.
    And I had a date. A date with a Brit named
Andre I knew nothing of other than he was a fellow student at Sixth
majoring in Law.
    Later I shared the news with Sienna. “He’s
kind of mysterious. Different.”
    She only frowned, appearing perturbed over my
weekend plans. “Stuart will be crushed.”
    For two seconds, I had forgotten Stuart.
    “What are you talking about? Stuart does not
like me, I told you that. He has not made one move.” He just stares
incessantly. Her insistence about Stuart’s invisible crush on me
was becoming annoying, mostly because I wanted