Magical Secrets of Love

Paris looks at the back of her twin brother Dallas’ head as they wait in line to receive their diplomas. The principal shakes hand after hand and the line eases slowly up the stairs to the stage. She is beyond excited to be finished with high school and get away from the idiots that go here. Paris has purposely chosen a university that none of her peers are attending, not even her own brother. The high school experience wasn’t terrible, but she was over the gossip and bullying that comes with adolescent settings. She was ready to be with a mature crowd who were actually excited about learning. So eager, she applied for the early admissions summer program. She feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she turns slowly, locking her light brown eyes with piercing green eyes a few rows of graduates away. She freezes trying to regain her composure, unable to look away. He lifts an eyebrow in a challenge, and she responds with the same. He nods his head at her as she continues to look at him with confusion. “Paris the line.” Sarah behind her says, and she turns to see the line has progressed, and her brother is already up the stairs. Paris sprints forward, almost tripping on the hem of her already large graduation gown. Her father accidentally ordered both their gowns through her brother, who was at least a foot taller than her, and so it was way too big. Paris catches herself on the railing and attempts to lift the hem to climb the stairs. She was already awkwardly wearing heels to help with her height. The gown's hem catches her heel and she tumbles forward bracing her fall with her wrists. The loud crash had every head in the large auditorium turn to stare at her lying across the stairs. Paris tries to stand up but feels her ankle twist under her, and she fails to grab the railing to regain balance. She closes her eyes to try and become invisible. When she looks toward the faculty sitting on the stage, the old chemistry teacher, Mr. Fletcher comes to help her. Paris grins at Mr. Fletcher to thank him as he extends his hand out to her. She wasn’t usually this clumsy, but her nerves were shaky today. It was both their graduation day and their 18th birthday. All morning she had felt like something important was going to happen. Maybe that was it. As she regained her balance on the top step, Mr. Fletcher held her elbow to be sure she was okay before stepping away. Paris nods to the Calculus teacher, Mrs. Lee and she continues to read the names in front of her. Mrs. Lee reads her brother's name, and he walks across the stage to shake the principal’s hand. “Paris Hawthorne,” she says clearly, and Paris makes her way across the stage with a smile and a slight limp. As she shakes the principal’s hand, she feels a sense of relief, and she takes her diploma with a huge smile. Paris turns to the photographer then heads down the opposite stairs with no problems and back to her seat. “You good?” Dallas asks as she adjusts in her seat. Paris rubs her ankle, and he looks at his sister in concern. “Does it hurt?” “I don’t think it’s that bad,” Paris whispers, readjusting her gown to cover her legs. “I’ll be alright.” Dallas nods, then gives his attention to the stage. Paris sighs and takes a longing look at her diploma case, where the school’s name has been outlined in gold on the cover. She feels like she’s being watched again. Looking up at the stairs, she sees the green eyes again. Quinn Nichols waits for his name to be called but is staring at her intently. He raises his eyebrows again, and she refuses to look away. Why does he keep looking at me? He smirks, “Quinn Nichols.” Mrs. Lee says clearly, and he finally looks away from her to go collect his handshake. Paris lets go of the breath she didn’t know she was holding and sits back. As the graduation ceremony ends, our class stands to move the tassel from right to left. Our audience cheers as the band begins to play ‘Pomp and Circumstance’ as we file out of the auditorium back to the choir and drama rooms. They have only handed us the diploma case, our actual diploma is in one of the assorted rooms. Dallas throws his arm around Paris’ shoulder, nearly knocking her over again as they walk into the drama room labeled with the last name A-M. By reflex, he says both their names to the teacher sorting through the diplomas. She pulls both their diplomas and hands them to him and Dallas guides them out of the crowd into the performance center lobby, where their grandmother and father are waiting holding flowers for them both. “You guys looked wonderful! I'm so proud!” their dad says. He kisses the top of Paris’ head but places a solid pat on the back for her brother. “Let's see your diplomas.” He says excitedly. The twins both take a moment to arrange their delicate diploma paper into the case and hold them up to take a picture. Dallas swings his arm over Paris’ shoulder again and they both smile. Their dad gets a few pictures when a large arm covers Paris’ waist and a deep voice vibrates through her body and soul. “Started the festivities without me, Mr. H?” Quinn says as he leans in to be a part of the picture. Of course, their dad doesn’t miss a beat and continues to snap pictures while Quinn’s hand burns into her side. She tries to keep her smile but loses her nerve when his scent engulfs her, and she turns to look up at him. “You took quite a tumble there Thorney. Are you good?” “Yes, I’m fine.” She responded a little annoyed that he brought it up and is still calling her that horrid nickname. With Dallas, he was just Hawthorne, but with Paris, she was Thorney, for being a thorn in his side since 6th grade. Dallas and Quinn weren’t allowed to go anywhere without Paris being forced to tag along. Even though Paris was a tomboy, still being a girl meant they couldn’t do a lot. Dallas babied her even though she did well and could keep up. “She hurt her ankle,” Dallas says as he turns to hug their 80-year-old grandmother, Catherine. She simply smiles as Paris closes her eyes in annoyance when Quinn tries to lift her gown to see her ankle. She pulled away and stepped back, “I said I’m fine. Can we go daddy?” Paris asks as she takes a tender step toward the exit. She realized her brother had been holding her like he had earlier because he knew it still hurt. Paris limps a little more before she feels a set of arms holding her as they walk to the door. “I got you Thorney,” Quinn grins. Paris turns to reach for her brother when she sees Dallas has chosen to push Grandma in her chair and Dad is chatting with Quinn’s parents as they all head out the door to the bustling parking lot. “Uh, thank you,” Paris responded, realizing she didn’t really have a choice but to walk with him. “You know it would be easier if you took those shoes off.” He says, trying to readjust his tall frame to her height. He is about the same height as Dallas. The shoes put her at an almost equal height as him, but Paris keeps adjusting to her toes to not put weight on her ankle. “I could carry you,” he suggested. Paris shoots him with a panicked look. “Or not? It was just a suggestion.” He grins goofishly, making her heart flutter. His arm around her squeezes a little tighter as they climb over a curb median. “So what do you want to do for your birthday?” Quinn asks, knowing they have a family dinner, and usually visit their mom’s grave. “I’m going to show Mom my diploma.” She says innocently. Quinn goes quiet for a moment, “I think that’s nice. She would be proud to see it.” He looks at Dallas, “What about you Hawthorne?” “Stacy and Kelvin are throwing a grad party at her lake house. I figured after dinner we could swing by and check it out,” he says nonchalantly as he helps their grandma into the front seat of their dad’s Buick. “Take Paris with you.” Dad calls over his shoulder and continues talking to Mr. and Mrs. Nichols. The boys exchange a look and Quinn rolls his eyes. Quinn finally releases Paris, to help lay Grandma’s wheelchair in the trunk. Paris walked slowly past their dad’s car to the parking spot where their Jeep Dallas, and she shared. She carefully climbed into the front seat, removing her graduation gown and draping it behind her seat. Her yellow sundress clung to her brown-tanned skin from all this heat. Aldoria hadn’t been this hot in June in a while, she thought. “Hey, back seat Thorney.” Quinn screeches, coming to open Paris’ door. She looks at him, then Dallas, who just shrugs and starts to climb in the driver's seat. “Why aren't you going with your parents?” She asks, not moving from her spot. “Because they are catching a plane to the Canary Islands in 2 hours, so they arranged for me to stay with you guys for the summer. So back seat.” He says. “Where is your car?” Paris prompts, knowing he drives a very nice Tesla. “I rode with my parents. It’s too hot for my Tesla out here,” he explains, leaning in closer to Paris with a mischievous smile. She accepted his challenging smile but crossed her arms, settling back in the seat. Not missing a beat, he picks Paris up easily out of the Jeep, ignoring her yelp, and places her in the back of the Jeep. He jumps into the passenger seat and then looks back at Paris with a smirk in the side mirror. She sits back with a pout as her brother waves to their dad, Quinn salutes his parents and Dallas pulls out of the parking spot. Paris ignores their general conversation but as they drive toward their house. Quinn comes from a wealthy family, while the Hawthorne family does well enough to remain in a good, safe neighborhood. They could not compete with Quinn's money. This old Jeep Wrangler was their mother’s. Dallas and Quinn spent most of the summer on their 16th birthday restoring it, so the twins could drive it. Paris worked as a tutor to earn money to help pay for the parts. Quinn and Dallas start a boring conversation about Bella Rodriguez, Dallas’ crush. Quinn thinks that Shayla, her bestie, would be a good ally to help in his pursuits since Bella broke up with her long-time college boyfriend at prom. Or she would be a distraction to keep Dallas away from her. If Shayla didn't approve, then no one would be close to Bella. She grabs her phone from her pocket in her dress and texts her best friend, Hugh. He’s a grade lower than them and plays in the band. She didn’t get to see him before they left school. He had already sent her a message. Hugh: Paris: Hugh: Paris: Hugh: Paris laughs at his comment and then looks up to see Quinn looking at her. “Why are you laughing?” he asks while Dallas turns down the street to their house. “Why do you want to know?” Paris asked, defiantly turning her head to look away from his reflection. “Probably Hugh,” Dallas answers, unamused by their questioning banter, pulling into their driveway. Quinn makes a face, but they all get out of the vehicle. Paris walks carefully into her house while the boys continue their plan to get Bella alone, so Dallas can ask her out. They head to their little hang-out in the backyard that they built with their dad when they were 12. No girls allowed. As she walks away, she feels eyes on her and turns to see Quinn looking at her legs. When she catches him looking, he turns away and clasps Dallas on the back, and they turn to the path that leads to behind the house. She goes to her room to change into some flats. In the kitchen, there is a roast in the oven and mashed potatoes and broccoli on the stove. She starts mixing the salad to go with tonight’s dinner. Paris likes to cook, and she’s had the roast prepared since this morning before the ceremony, so it should be ready to serve in about 30 minutes. Their dad should be back soon after he drops grandma back at her nursing home. Paris busies herself cleaning up the kitchen and watching the boys from the kitchen window. Quinn catches her staring once or twice, and she tries to feign innocence and wipes the counter. As her father walks into the house, Quinn and Dallas enter with their shirts off and grab a lemonade from the fridge. Paris gulps as sweat drips from Quinn’s throat down his chest. “Hey, put a shirt on boys,” their dad yells, “Your sister made a great meal, and you too are stinking up the place.” Paris hurriedly sets the table, trying to ignore the still half-naked Quinn. He gives his boyish grin again, then takes his crumpled shirt out of his back pocket and puts his shirt on finally. They all gather around the table to pray and eat the roast her dad placed on the table. Dinner with Quinn is normally not an issue, but today he’s been watching her and she doesn't like the attention. She had a crush on him for some time, but she could never date her brother’s best friend. It was an unspoken forbidden rule. He eats his food deliberately, chewing slowly while looking at her with hungry eyes. Paris clears her throat and decides to ignore him for the remainder of dinner. When everyone seems to be finished, they ask their dad about grabbing their birthday cake. Their dad grabs the birthday cupcakes and places them in front of each of them, extinguishes the light so their candles glow, and they sing Happy Birthday and make a wish. As they each blow out their candle, she looks into Quinn’s green eyes, wishing he would see her as his equal and not his best friend’s baby twin sister. As much as she loves those eyes, she can't wait to leave for college and leave them behind. “Happy Birthday, “ Quinn says and dips his finger into the icing of her cupcake. He slowly licks the icing off his finger and then grins, breaking the spell. Paris jumps up from the table and declares, “I’m going to see Mom, are you coming?” “No, I think I’ll go see her tomorrow.” Dallas answers. Quinn sits back, knowing talking about their mother sometimes makes his friend a little awkward. Dallas stands and heads upstairs. As Paris heads to the door, Quinn grabs her arm. “He’ll be alright. Would you like me to come with you?” “Um,” Paris bites her lip, actually wanting to say yes. She doesn’t really like going to see her mom alone. Quinn looks at her lips and his dark eyes almost turn black. Paris leans into him as Quinn touches her face.