I always thought it’d be cool to be famous. I always imagined love would be perfect. And in my deepest dreams I hoped that fairy tales were real. Somehow, those three things just don’t mix. In fact, I fear those things may prove to be fatal.
~*~
I walked out of the old adobe-like library clutching the twenty page research paper I had just completed. It was on mythology, one of my favorite subjects, and I buried my head in it as I walked down our town streets. I heard the bartering of the jewelry privateers that lined the clay-like buildings. The smell of sweet, fresh flowers filled the dusk air. Twilight was descending, and I saw many closing up shop. This was Santa Fe. This was my home.
As I admired my handiwork, the paper that was due once summer break ended, I felt the breeze slowly pick up. This was odd, for in Santa Fe, very rarely were there storms. My papers whipped at my chest, and I hugged them tight, squinting to see in the fleeting light. I walked briskly, hoping to make it home before the rain hit, so as to save my papers. Next thing I knew, I hit a brick wall, or so I thought.
I fell dizzily to the ground, trying to save my masterpiece. The rain was starting to sprinkle, and my head throbbed slightly. Yet, as I looked up, I could very well see that is what not a brick wall that had caused my crumble.
“I’m so sorry, really, what can I do to help?” It was a guy near my age, with a well built chest and a solid tan. He looked vaguely Native American, but I couldn’t quite place it. His handsome, clean face was contorted in a deep frown, yet I had no pity, which was strange, considering my usual stage fright around men.
“Get the papers!” I practically yelled. By now at least four had flown out of my hands and the sixth and seventh rebels were working their way out as I clutched my head.
“Oh! Oh yeah! I got it,” he said. He took off running, surprisingly faster than I had thought capable, considering his height. I was stunned but, as much as this boy was handsome, my paper was much more important. I should’ve saved it on a zip drive, I thought angrily.
He ran back, clutching four slightly damp papers. My wrath finally appeased, I uneasily stood up. The bright orange edges of my long skirt collected around my ankles, damp from the pavement. My ankles caught, and I lurched forward, preparing to fall again. A single hand pulled me up, and I looked breathlessly at its owner.
He had short, spiky hair that stuck out under a red baseball cap. His eyes were dark brown with heavy lashes, not girly, but not matching the rest of his masculine yet trim body. He had on khakis with a soaked Sun Devils baseball shirt. He was grinning now as he held up my long, five -eleven foot frame.
“You don’t exactly fit in with the people here,” he said, a teasing grin at the edges of his mouth. I gave him a harsh look, smoothing my skirt down.
“And you expect to fit in with a Phoenix baseball shirt? You say that I don’t fit in. Please, tell me what’s your obviously out-of-state look called?” I retorted, grabbing my papers out of his clutch. He broke out in a full grin, the rain finally starting to pour, and I realized how beautiful his teeth were.
“I’m sorry princess, but I look more like this place than you do,” he said. His voice was flat out mocking me. I felt angry, but the thing that bothered me the most was that he was right. His dark skin was olive, unlike mine which was obviously tanned from being out in the sun for multiple days. His dark hair and yet strikingly brown eyes matched those of the locals, while my almond, light blue ones stuck out. Also, my hair was a light blonde, almost white, from being out in the sun as much as I was. It hung in loose ringlets down my back. I was tall, yet curvy, with a flair for unique clothing.
“Well look, it’s pouring. I’ve got to go,” I said, feeling the cool rain slide down my tank top. The boy sighed, locking his eyes with mine.
“Listen, I’m Luke, and I feel it’s my duty to take you wherever you need to go,” Luke, I rolled the name in my thoughts; it had a hard sound when you said it, yet it was sweet. I couldn’t decide if I liked it.
“Sorry,” I said, surprising myself, “But I’ve been told not to accept rides from strangers.” The rain was coming down harder now, and we had to step under an overhang.
“I’m not that strange, am I?” His smile was illuminated as the first lightning crashed across the sky.
“I suppose I do need a ride. There’s no way I’m walking home in this,” I replied.
“Good,” he smiled and started off at a brisk walk. He had taken off at such a fast pace that I had to jog to catch up to him.
We turned around a corner to a small parking lot. There was only one car there, and it gleamed in the fleeting lightning. I instantly looked around for a different car, praying that we weren’t going to the one Luke was walking up to.
“I can’t get in this,” I said softly, standing by the door.
“Not nice enough for you?” He asked, his teasing smile almost aggravating me. This car was amazing, a Lamborghini Murcielago. It was lightning blue, and approximately a million dollars, depending on who you asked. I could not even touch this car without feeling unworthy.
“The Coupe Model is beautiful,” I replied, for if I wasn’t mistaken, this was the Coupe and not the Roadster.
“Ah,” Luke said, “But the Coupe is not as expensive.” I just nodded, and started to walk away.
“Where are you going?” He asked.
“Home,” I replied, “I’m not ruining this car.” Luke laughed out loud.
“Trust me, it’s fine,” he said. He then proceeded to click the button that opens the doors. They zoomed up, out of the sides and hung above the opening, allowing me to see into the car. I was attracted to the car’s beauty; I just couldn’t resist.
“Alright, I’ll ride,” I said cautiously. Luke just nodded and slid into the driver’s seat. I could see that there were plastic seat coverings, so I felt better.
“Don’t worry, I knew it might rain today,” he explained. I just nodded and waited for him to close the doors. With a quick flick of his wrist he pressed the button. The doors snapped down so fast I flinched. I saw him smile distantly and narrowed my eyes, turning my head away.
“So where do you live?” He asked.
“1 GreyWater Lane,” I replied. I had lived here almost all my life with my father, a Hollywood screen writer. My mom lived up in California. She was an actress that rarely communicated with us. I never knew why; my dad never really felt like talking about her. I never really felt like asking either.
He took off with such force that I immediately reached for the seatbelt. I finally felt safe once it had been clicked into place. We dashed through the cobbled streets, the world becoming nothingness around us.
“There are speed limits here,” I said, not trying to hide my contempt. The car didn’t slow down at all; in fact, I think that it sped up.
“There aren’t any for this car,” he retorted, rolling his dark eyes. I sighed and leaned back into the seat, watching him pull tight corners. I started shivering from the rain that had seeped through my clothing while we were outside. He waved his hand in front of the air conditioning unit and immediately it heated up.
“Does it do that for everyone?” I asked, curious at the motion. Luke looked shocked for a second; then he bit his lip and turned towards me.
“It’s programmed… just for me,” he said shakily. Was he lying? I couldn’t figure out if he was, and if he was, why would he lie about that? Was a waving motion really something that special? I decided it must be the truth, for if not, well… it was a dumb lie.
“Here we are,” he said, and I recognized the iron gate that led up a curvy driveway and to my house.
“If you’re from out-of-state, how did you know the way to my house?” I asked. He just smiled. Was there a faint stirring in my stomach? I couldn’t tell, and didn’t want to sort it out. Your meeting will be done in a second, I thought, and then it will only be a single memory in a lifetime. Luke looked away and rolled down the window to press the intercom button.
“Who is calling?” Jamie, our butler, asked.
“Hello, I’m Luke Austin, and I’m just giving Miss…” he turned to me, “What’s your name?” he hissed.
“Emma,” I replied.
“I’m just giving Miss Emma a ride home,” he finished. Jamie was quiet for a second, and I could see the baffled look on his old face.
“Come right in,” he said. The gates slowly opened and Luke raced up the driveway. Finally, my house appeared.
“You have no room to talk about expensive things,” Luke said as he saw my house. I rolled my eyes.
“Two of your cars would make my house,” I retorted.
“Yes, but I only have one,” he said, grinning. I could see my dad at the side door, watching me. His hair was messy and he was in his usual writing garb, his pajamas. Yet, contrary to his look, his eyes were very alert.
“Listen, I still feel bad, so here’s my number in case you ever want something, okay?” Luke gave me a card with his cell and home number on it.
“You have you own cards?” I asked dubiously.
“You’ll have to hang out with me again to find out why,” he said playfully. He gave me a long wink and opened the doors. I slipped the card into my papers and walked out of his car onto the front porch.
I walked in the rain slowly, letting it sort out my emotions. My dad was still there, watching my every step. I heard the Lambo roar and watched it swiftly turn and race out. I sighed and opened the door to once again face reality.
