The Lost Alpha Daughter

Chapter 2 - The Beginning of the Fall

I quite nearly drop my bag in my surprise. I turn around to see Anson Morris leaning against the wall to the building. He’s ditched his sport jacket he was wearing earlier, and the sleeves of his white button up have been rolled up to his elbows so his entire, very muscular, forearms are showing.

My eyes slowly move up his arms to his shoulders, which look like they barely fit into that shirt. My eyes keep travelling up until I reach his face, where I see him smirking down at me. It’s at this moment I realize I was silently eye-f*****g this guy right in front of him. Damn, twice in one day.

“No, I think I’ve got it,” I fumble with my bag and finally manage to close my fingers around my keys. As I yank them from the bottom of my bag, half the contents go flying across the sidewalk.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” I panic as I squat down and hastily start ramming things back into my bag.

“Don’t be,” he says as he leans down too, much more calmly than me, and gathers a handful of my stuff. I grab the last couple pencils that spilled and stand up. When I do, he extends his hand out to me with the rest of my things.

My cheeks instantly flash red realizing he’s holding quite a fistful of tampons. I think I’m dead and being tortured. There’s absolutely no way this day can be going this horribly for me. I quickly reach for his hand and grab everything from him, and in an instant, all of my embarrassment is forgotten.

As I go to grab my things, I brush his hand and I freeze. When people say they feel sparks, I kind of assumed that was more of a figurative thing than a literal thing. It feels like electricity is coursing through my body, all coming from the place where our skin is touching. He reaches over with his free hand and grabs my frozen one, turning it so my palm is up. He places my things in my hand, and curls my fingers closed. I watch every movement, then turn to look up in his eyes.

As I stand there, with my hand full of tampons, closed in between his much larger ones, I can’t pull myself away. There’s something behind his deep blue eyes, but I can’t seem to tell what it is. It almost looks like, pain? It’s as though this moment in time is tearing him in half. Why?

As I try to wrap my head around this man in front of me, my focus is broken. A loud car horn sounds behind me, and I turn to see a silver mini van pull up next to us.

“Hey NK! Hop in, let’s hang out today,” I turn to see Tyler calling out to me from Jace’s passenger side window. As he says it, the door to the mini van begins to slide open, revealing Andrea and Layla inside.

This snaps me back to reality, and I shove the assorted items into the front pocket of my bookbag. I turn back to look at Anson.

“Thank you for your help, Mr. Morris,” I say, quickly nodding my head and hustling over to the van. As I scurry away, I could swear I could hear him cursing under his breath, and was that, a growl? He must really be fuming over whatever he was arguing with my friends about earlier. At this moment, he seems pissed off by their very presence.

“Anson, it’s Anson,” he calls to me, and throws his hands up in exasperation. He sounds and is acting like you just told a little kid that they couldn’t have a cookie.

I don’t respond, and continue to climb in the back with Zach, and give Anson a small smile and wave through the window. He sighs with his whole chest, and just stands there watching us go. I watch him as Jace steps on the gas, peeling us out of the school parking lot. I guess I’m getting my car later. When we’re nearly out of sight, I watch Anson punch the wall, then lean his forehead to rest against it. He looks like he just lost a fight.

I readjust myself to face forward in the seat, and try to put together my thoughts. I go to snag my phone out of my bag to send Steph a text that I’ll be home later than normal. As I dig for my phone, I see something in my bag I don’t think belongs to me. I pull it out, and realize it’s a business card. It’s Anson Morris’ business card. He must have added it to the pile of stuff he handed me. I flip it to the back, scrawled there, in very obviously a man’s handwriting, is just a number.

Well, it doesn’t match the number from the front, so this must be a personal number. Did Anson Morris just give me his number? Is this happening right now? I look around the car as my friends are idly chit chatting, and I don’t really feel like I should tell them right now. I shove the card back in my bag and zip it up tightly.

“So where are we going?” I ask, feeling a bit guilty I’m keeping something from my friends. It’s not something I tend to do. It isn’t that I don’t trust them. I trust them with my life. Something is just telling me right now isn’t the right time. It’s fully possible that the “something” is just me being a total wimp.

“The Diner?” Andrea offers. Everyone murmurs their agreement, and Jace turns the car towards out regular hang out. We’ve been going to The Diner at least once a week since Jace turned 16 and rolled up with his driver’s license. It’s close to school, and no one there seems to care if we stay there for hours. We only ever hang out there or at my place. None of the rest of the group ever have volunteered their houses, and I’m honestly at this point too afraid to ask why. I figure if they could, they would have offered. It’s not like they’re hiding me or anything, I’ve met their parents plenty of time, so I’m not too concerned about the whole thing.

Besides, I love The Diner. We pull into the parking lot and Tyler hops out first. As the automatic door to the van slides open, Tyler stands outside moving his hand like he’s opening it with The Force, a joke that got old pretty much instantly, but he’s insisted on doing every time.

“Dork,” I say, as I ruffle his hair and jump down from the van.

“Ha, bite me,” he retorts. I hook my arm in his and we walk into the restaurant together. We slide into a booth, and before we’ve even settled in Glinda is over with her notepad and pen.

“There’s my favorite pups, do we need menus today?” Glinda says, big smile plastered to her face. Glinda and her husband Tom own the place. They’re the sweetest couple ever, like the crazy old aunt and uncle in the family. Tom wears the same yellow button up and gray slacks every single day, and Glinda’s grey tight curls are always secured in a messy bun right on the top of her head. She’s called us her pups for a while, it’s kinda cute, it’s just a Glinda thing.

“No Glinda, I think we’re good,” Zach replies, we rarely look at menus anymore, “I think just a round of coke floats for now if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I could never mind serving you all hon, I’ll be right back,” she says as she tucks her pen and paper into her serving belt and shuffles back off to the kitchen.

“So, anyone’s life completely changed by today’s career day?” Tyler jokes. I know he means jobs, but honestly, I can’t help but feel like for some reason, maybe my life did change today. And it definitely had nothing to do with a job.

“Not really, I still want to go to med school. I’m not afraid of the time it’ll take,” Layla says.

“Plus, you get to spend so much time surrounded by hot doctors,” Andrea adds.

“Real life isn’t Grey’s Anatomy, Andrea,” Layla rolls her eyes. “We really need to find you the right guy, or I might go insane.” Andrea seems to slump at that. I know she really is hoping for the right guy to come along. She’s flirty sure, but she’s really all talk. She always finds an excuse to get out of a date. She perks herself up though pretty quickly.

“Maybe I will, there’s that party this weekend. Some junior’s parents are going out of town so he’s throwing a huge rager Friday night. You guys know we have to go, right?” she looks at us expectantly.

“You know I’m always in,” Zach leans back and puts his arms behind his head in a move he thinks makes him look really cool. To most girls, the way this pose shows off his biceps, it probably works. If Andrea and Zach are committed to going somewhere, it’s pretty much going to happen, so none of us even attempt to fight it.

“Why don’t we get ready at my place,” I gesture at the girls, “and you boys can meet us there before we go. I’m sure David will give us a ride and you guys can crash at mine after.” This is a pretty regular plan for us. Steph and David don’t necessarily condone underage drinking, but they definitely aren’t naïve either. They will always drive us because they think it’s better than us sneaking out and being unsafe. Plus, the six of us are usually pretty reasonable. No one has yacked on a carpet yet, if that happens maybe they’ll change their tune.

“Yes! But NK remember the deal you make us,” Layla says, barely containing her giddiness. I groan and sink as low in my seat as I can go.

“I was REALLY hoping you guys had forgotten about that,” I complain. Last time we went out, the girls told me they were sick of my going out looks, which are pretty much the same as my staying in looks. Fashion isn’t quite my strong suit, and I’ve always been a bit insecure about my body, so leggings and baggy t-shirts are fan favorites of mine. Last time in order to get them off my back about my t-shirt of the day, which honestly I didn’t think was so bad, I told them they could choose my look for the next party.

“We could never. Party is in a couple days, and I don’t think any of our stuff will fit your boobs so we’re going shopping tomorrow,” Andrea says, looking quite smug. The guys scoff at that.

“This should be interesting, I don’t think NK has ever worn anything that even needed boob size to be taken into account,” Tyler jabs.

“HEY! I have, uh, swimsuits,” I retort. Okay, not the best comeback. But he’s right, you don’t really take much sizing into account when you’re buying men’s tees. If I like the design, or it’d be good to bleach or distress, I buy it. T-shirts are simple like that.

“Yeah you do,” Zach says, in a rather suggestive tone, which definitely earns him a slap upside the head. I know he’s joking, but it needed to be done.

“Okay fine, shopping tomorrow, but no more talking about my t**s, like ever, please and thanks,” I sigh.

“So meet at NK’s at like 9:00 PM then?” Jace asks, always my savior changing the subject right when needed. We agree, and soon Glinda comes back with our drinks. I take a giant sip, and decide it’s time a get a few answers about today.

“So Anson Morris, what was up with that? How well do you know this guy?” They all freeze. My gut feeling was right, they definitely were all being weird today.

“Pretty well, he lives by all of us. He’s best friends with my older brother,” Andrea responds, speaking pretty slowly like she’s thinking through each word. “So we kind of all grew up around each other. He’s closest with Zach,” Zach nods his head curtly as a response, “but we all see him from time to time.” So I was right, he probably is 24, that’s Andrea’s brother’s age.

“So what did you guys do to piss him off so much? He was staring daggers at you when we left,” I leave out the part about the literal electric pulses. And the business card. I don’t want the attention on me right now.

“Well, he’s kind of always been in charge, he’s pretty used to getting his way,” Zach chips in. “I basically told him for once in his life things might not be so easy for him, and I don’t think he took it well. But he’s my friend, he’ll get over it.”

“So you guys are friends too, you don’t just work together,” I push. This is more than I expected, seems like Mr. CEO isn’t always a big business man all the time.

“No, I’d say work for Morris Industries is a pretty small part of my life, and his too honestly. The company is really well established and he’s got a lot of people under him who keep it running smoothly. I mostly know him for just being Anson,” Zach adds. His voice softens. You can tell he has a lot of respect for the guy, but he also cares for him deeply.

“So is he nice then?” I inquire. I know I’m pushing the limits, but I really want to know more.

“You’re full of questions, huh? You never told us what you were talking about when we picked you up,” Tyler challenges. Damn. Guess I pushed one step too far.

“We weren’t really talking. He happened to be there when I left the building, and he helped me pick up some stuff I spilled, then you guys showed up. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes,” I defend. It’s the truth of what happened, but it feels so much more significant than I make it sound. I still don’t add the part about the business card.

They all nod with some kind of unspoken understanding, like they somehow picked up on the fact it was a bigger deal than I am letting on. But I’m probably paranoid. I guarantee you they aren’t thinking magical zappy hand holding happened.

“You should be careful, NK,” Jace says solemnly. I look around the group and their faces all hold the same level of concern.

“Careful? What, is he going to kidnap me in my sleep? You guys seem to like him,” I joke, but no one is laughing with me.

“Guys, why do you look like someone just died, what the hell is up with you?” I press when no one seems to want to speak.

“It’s nothing NK, we just care about you, and we’re your best friends. We know you. We saw you staring at him. Anson is great, he’s just intense, and his way of life might just be a lot to handle. We don’t want you to bite off more than you can chew,” Andrea says, but Tyler laughs.

“Oh come on, that was funny. You totally did that on purpose,” he says. I’m lost, but Andrea just glares at him and he holds up his hands in surrender.

Honestly, I’m a bit frustrated. I feel like I’m getting a whole lot of empty responses that are just leaving me with more questions than anything else.

“What are you guys not telling me, I don’t get it. I thought we were all supposed to be friends, right now it feels like I’m on the outside looking in,” I practically yell at them. Layla reaches over and grabs my hand.

“You’re completely right, we haven’t been completely honest with you, and that’s not fair. But we’ve never lied to you, I promise. Anson is a great guy, and I know you want to get to know him. We’ll introduce you if you want. We just don’t want to see you hurt, so you’re going to have to keep an open mind, that’s all,” she says, far too calmly for me to be mad at her. I take a deep breath. What she said makes sense. He did seem like a lot to handle, but something about him, I just feel like I have to know more. I just nod in response.

“Let’s get through the week, and if you still want to gossip about Anson after the party, I promise we can girl chat ALL night,” Andrea says. “I’ll even call my brother and get you the inside scoop. Sound like a plan?”

I nod and smile at her. I’m overreacting and getting frustrated at my friends, for what? A guy six years older than me with some potential anger issues? I have no clue what has gotten into me. They are just thinking about what’s best for me, they know him obviously way more than I do. But my hand moves to my backpack, thinking about the card inside.

“I’m sorry to run so quick, but I’m going to go, you guys can have the rest of this,” I push my glass to the center of the table and throw down five bucks to cover my share. We’re only a couple blocks away from school and honestly, I could do with a walk. I’ve always loved walking and running; it clears my head. I scooch myself out of the booth and leave before anyone can object. I’m not sure they would though, I think they know I need this.

I make it back to my car, and I have made up my mind. I’m not sure when on my walk I did, but I think I always knew it was unavoidable. I’m texting the number. I grab the card and my phone from my bag and hastily type the digits in.

“Hi, this is NK. Who is this?” I type in the message box. It has to be Anson, but I don’t know what else to say and I don’t want to make a fool of myself if he gave me his assistant’s number. I press send before I can second guess myself and toss my phone up on the dash like it’s burning hot in my hand. I sit back in my chair, hyperventilating. Not because of the walk, no that couldn’t have bothered me less, but I’ve got no clue what I am doing with this guy.

I fumble for my keys, deciding I just need to get home, and as soon as I get the car started, my cell vibrates on the dash. I stare at it until it vibrates a second time, letting me know it has been a full two minutes I’ve been sitting like this. I snatch it up, and read the screen.

There in plain letters, it says “That’s a dumb question, try again.”