CHAPTER ONE: EIGHTEEN YEARS LATER
1178 Words
The car engine wheezed its death cough, the door swung open and the foot of a fair-skinned teenager reached out into the hot Monday morning. The sun shining down on her made her skin look as though it glittered.
The air was dense and stuffy enough; it felt like the entire street was indoors somewhere. She took off her dark sunglasses and glanced around. Her brown eyes glowed in the sunlight as she took in her surroundings.
She smiled. “Feels great to be back.”
“Natasha,” a masculine voice called from inside the car. “Just call me if you need anything.”
“Stop,” she said. “Dad. Stop.”
She heard him chuckle, and the car engine roared to life. “Have a great day, sweetie.”
She sighed and watched him drive away until he was completely out of sight, then continued towards the school gate with her notepad in hand, which she held close to her chest, and her schoolbag, which hung from her shoulder. She saw her best friends waiting at the school gate and walked towards them, bracing herself for a hug.
Madelia raced across the school gate and squeezed her in a bone-crushing hug. “So good to see you.”
Barely breathing from the tackle hug, Natasha gurgled in a strained voice. “Can’t—breathe!”
“Oh, sorry.” Madelia giggled as she let go of her.
“Ah, what a hug!” She breathed.
Madelia gave her shoulder a small shake. “Sorry about that,” she chuckled, bubbling with excitement.
“Good to see you, Natasha,” Dreda calmly said, folding her arms.
She turned to her and smiled. “Good to see you too, Dreda.”
Dreda knitted her eyebrows to give her a quick once-over. “Looks like someone’s been adding up during the holiday,” she teased.
“Daddy’s fault! He treats me as if I’m incapable of taking care of myself. Doesn’t let me do anything.” Natasha scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“Sounds like you had a glorious holiday,” Dreda chuckled.
“I wish!” She threw her backpack across her shoulder and they all walked past the school gate. “My holiday was anything but glorious. Under the watchful eyes of my dad, I could only do so much. I guess you’ll never know how that feels since you’re the mayor’s daughter. Your dad lets you do whatever you want.”
She smiled calmly—the kind she smiled at people who clearly didn’t know what they were talking about. “Being the daughter of a mayor is much more exhausting than you think. Trust me, you wouldn’t want to argue with me on this one.”
“Look, all I’m saying is that I didn’t have much of a holiday being cooped up in that mansion.” Natasha grunted in frustration. “Could you imagine he didn’t let me leave the house throughout the holiday? And even when he did, he would ask Derik never to leave my side.”
“You can’t blame him for being so overprotective of his daughter,” Madelia said. “It can be annoying sometimes but he’ only looking out for your best interest.”
“And could you believe Derik—” She trailed when her phone rang. She stole a glance at it, sighed, and stifled an eye roll.
“Who’s that?” Madelia asked.
“Speaking of Derik, he’s calling. Probably to know if I’m—” She bumped into someone she didn’t see coming.
“Haa!” she exclaimed after her phone slipped through her fingers and scattered on the earthen floor.
Madelia froze, covering her mouth.
“Good heavens,” Dreda gasped, holding her chest.
A small silence followed—deep enough to splash in for a second.
Natasha turned and was positively wonder-struck to see him walking without any care in the world, not even a side glance at them. He shuffled with both hands dipped in his pockets and appeared oblivious to what just happened.
“Hey!”
He didn’t stop but kept on walking as if he didn’t hear her. Dreda and Madelia exchanged glances.
Now feeling even more agitated, Natasha yelled even louder. “Hey!”
That didn’t stop him.
“Are you kidding me?” She lost it. “Excuse me! I’m talking to you. Are you deaf? Or are you just stupid?” She almost went after him, but then he stopped dead in his tracks.
Not knowing what else to expect, she waited for him to turn—at least to apologise. But he didn’t. He just remained rooted where he stood, his back facing her. In the silence that followed, she yelled, “You just bumped into me and shattered my phone! The least you could’ve done is—”
Again, she trailed when he slowly turned to look at her, then their eyes locked on like a magnet. She gasped as his eyes bored into hers, her mouth agape with wonder as she stared at his perfectly moulded features.
His curls were dark brown and his eyes were a mesmerizing deep ocean blue, framed by graceful brows. He had a high-bridged nose that was among his two eyes, a prominent cheekbone and a well-defined chin obscured by a fuzzy, thin beard. He stood there, both hands dipped in his pockets, staring blankly at her with sore eyes. His face was neutral, giving off no trace of emotion.
“God! You’re so annoying.” Why do they always think they have the right to step on others simply because they’re gorgeous? “Seriously, who do you think you—?”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled coldly, cutting her off.
Those calm, sincere words melted the walls of her angry heart. The wind blew gently across her face, pushing her hair back. She heard the sadness in his voice. She felt it. When she looked up at his face, she saw right through him. She saw the pain in his vapid eyes—only then did she realise she’d overreacted.
He looked away, turned, and walked on. Natasha stood there with mixed feelings, eyes fixed on him as he walked away. She wished she could take back all those hurtful words.
“Oh my God!” Madelia exclaimed long after he was gone. Her voice held barely contained shock. “What the hell just happened?”
Natasha stared wordlessly, unsure of what to say. Even she, too, did not believe she’d said those things.
“Natasha, what has gotten into you?” Dreda said. “That’s no way to talk to a stranger.”
She remained impassive, showing neither remorse nor concern. She bent over to pick up the broken pieces of her phone and tossed them all in her bag. Her wristwatch alarm went off, startling her. She glanced at it. “I got to go now. See you two after class!”
Her friends looked at her pointedly as she walked away.
- Writer
