Since 1998

Chapter 4

Six Years Later

At nineteen, Devin was tall, with sharp angles and lean muscle. He is a charming prince who hides himself from the crowd.

Devin’s face was like a stone wall. He didn't let anyone in. On campus, every girl wanted him, but he didn't even notice. He was a second-year med student, but his mind was always somewhere else.

A sudden car horn cut through Devin's daydream.

"Hey! Coming or not?"

Sam leaned out of a silver BMW 325i. Despite owning their own cars, the two had spent the last three years carpooling-an unspoken pact to keep the world at bay for just a few minutes longer.

Devin climbed in, met by the scent of expensive leather and Sam's expensive perfume.

"Morning," Sam said, shifting into gear. He squinted at his friend. "You look like hell. Didn't sleep again?"

"I slept fine," Devin said, a beat too fast.

Sam knew better. He knew Devin's nights were spent writing letters he'd never dare to mail. He was about to accelerate when a figure stepped into their path.

"Leaving without me? Harsh, boys."

Cathy didn't ask to get in; she just opened the door. She had this way of looking at Devin that made the car feel ten degrees colder.

"You have a Mercedes in the driveway, sis," Sam grumbled.

She replied, leaning forward between the front seats, her eyes fixed on Devin's profile. "Missed me?"

Devin kept his gaze on the passing marshland. He never answered.

"Cold. Always so cold," she clicked her tongue. "You'd think you'd catch a fever for me by now."

Sam snorted. "Give it up, Cath. The guy's allergic to girls. I've seen him turn down the homecoming queen."

"He's not allergic," Cathy said, her voice dropping into something sharper. She watched Devin's hand tighten on his backpack. "He's just gay."

Sam nearly swerved, barking out a laugh. "Oh, man! Imagine the look on his uncle's face!"

Devin said nothing. He didn't defend himself or agree. He just watched the pale blue sky through the windshield.

He wasn't allergic, and he wasn't gay. He was waiting for the only girl who ever mattered.

***

At seventeen, Allison was tall and sophisticated. Everyone loved her bright blue eyes and her warm, friendly smile.

Beside her, Anna had grown into a radiant, wild beauty. With her Spanish heritage, sharp eyes, and tumble of curly hair, she was Allison's perfect foil.

"What's your full name again?" Allison teased.

"Seriously, Ali? We've survived years of chaos, and you still don't know it? It's Anna Maria Elizabeth Rodriguez."

Allison burst into laughter, her pen nearly slipping. "I knew it! I can't help it-your ancestors must have been so crazy."

"I knew you'd turn it into a joke," Anna groaned.

The sudden ring of the doorbell cut through the air.

"The mail!" Allison didn't just walk; she bolted. Moments later, she skidded back into the room, breathless. "Anna... It's here. His letter. His last letter!"

"Last? Of course it is. He has no idea his pen pal is about to appear out of thin air. God, Ali."

"Shut up, Anna. I learned these tricks from you."

"Oh, come on. I'm loving it. As your mentor, I'm proud," Anna giggled. "Now, open the damn thing!"

Allison began to tear the seal, then stopped. "Wait. My heart... It's racing. It's dancing."

"For God's sake, Ali, your heart doesn't have feet. Open that damned thing!"

Allison let out a nervous, high-pitched laugh as her fingers finally slid the contents out. This time, it wasn't just paper; it was thick and glossy.

A photograph.

Anna let out a literal scream. "Oh my God, Allison!"

Allison hesitated, but Anna snatched it from her hands. "What the hell, Allison? Look at this face!"

She stared at the glossy paper. No way. The skinny boy with the missing teeth was gone. In his place was someone who looked like he’d never smiled a day in his life—and he was gorgeous.

"Why are you so calm?!" Anna scrambled up, nearly knocking Allison over. "Look at him! Allison, he's dangerously hot. He looks like he belongs on a poster in every girl's locker!"

"Locker?" Allison blinked.

"Oh, come on, are you jealous?"

"Why would I be?"

"Gosh, you're so naive."

That night, the villa was silent except for the rhythmic chirping of crickets in the garden. Allison lay on her bed, with moonlight casting a silver glow over the photograph.

Allison traced the bridge of his nose. He wasn't the boy from the beach anymore. He looked sharp—lethal, almost. There was a heaviness in his eyes that made her want to reach through the photo and pull him back into the sunlight.

"His eyes..." she whispered. "They're hypnotizing. If he stands in front of me... I don't think I'll remember how to breathe."

"I knew it."

Allison jumped, nearly dropping the photo on her face. "You're still awake?!"

Anna smirked from the other bed, her eyes glowing in the dark. "I didn't know I was sharing a room with a pervert. You've been staring at that picture for twenty minutes."

"Shut up!"

"Sure, Ali. You're looking at it like you're about to marry it. Just admit it."

Allison threw a pillow at her, unable to stop smiling. Suddenly, she sat bolt upright. "I have a plan."

Anna sighed, pulling the covers over her head. "Oh no... here we go."

"I'm not replying to this letter. He thinks I'm still here. When we get back to South Carolina... I'll pretend to be a stranger. It'll be fun."

Anna stared at her from under the blanket. "Go to sleep. You're losing your mind."

"What? It's a great plan!"

"Yeah, yeah. Just try not to kiss the photo to death. Good night."

Allison smiled, slipping the picture under her pillow and feeling the cool edges against her palm. "Good night."