As I feared Spring Break has started, and I am heading to the bus area with my suitcase in hand. My suitcase contains several undergarments, three white blouses (buttoned to reach the bottom of my neck), one pair of jeans, and two dress pants both of which grey. I hope my dad approves of these clothes. They are the type of clothes he usually sees on his colleagues, so maybe he won't be so abhorred with me when I'm wearing them.
Then again he might make a claim that I'm trying to dress like an adult when I'm clearly still only a kid.
Within minutes of my arrival the bus enters the loading area, and several students exit. Once they all leave, I entered, and to my surprise the entire bus was filled. I would have thought people took their cars home instead of using public transport. Spotting a seat towards the back, I dragged my suitcase behind me and headed in that direction. As a sat down I saw several eyes turn towards me, and I automatically shrank (metaphorically that is), trying to make myself as small as possible. I don't like attention.
It takes the passengers a couple of minutes before realizing that I wasn't that interesting, or maybe the interesting thing ended not being too interesting after all. Regardless the reason they returned their gaze back to either their friends, or to the front of the bus. I let out a sigh of relief.
Promptly I unzipped the small pockets of my suitcase and pulled out a history book on Spanish Architecture of the 1700s.
Besides me, I heard a body stir in discomfort. I should look up, and ask them if they were all right, but I don't. Instead I continue reading about the Churrigueresque architectural style that became popular in Spain at the turn of the 18th century.
When the bus came to an abrupt stop, I realize that it's been thirty minutes since I was sitting here. Closing it up stretched my arms horizontally and yawned. That was when I realized I just hit someone in the shoulders. Automatically, I turned towards the person sitting next to me an apologized. "I'm sor…" I trailed off as I looked at the person sitting next to me.
The first thing I noticed about him wasn't how drop dead gorgeous he was, but his eyes. They're an intense shade of emerald; so green I swear it is unnatural. Blinking my eyes a couple times, I repeated, "I'm sorry."
He had an amused look on his face and grinned, "You know, my body is worth at least a million dollars, you just hurt expensive goods."
I cocked my head to the side, contemplating what he just said. It could be taken as either a joke, or a very serious statement. I'm guessing the latter because people usually don't joke with me. Looking at him straight in the eyes, I repeated for the third time that I was sorry, and I would pay for any damages I caused, as long as there was professional proof that his body was seriously damaged.
For a second he stared at me in utter disbelief, and finally he laughed and held out his hand. "Adrian Ivashkov, art major," he introduced.
Staring at his hands for a few seconds I finally decided to shake it. "Sydney Sage. I'm in architecture," I told him. He nodded his head with a knowing smile. "I thought so, regular people simply don't sit on the bus reading about Spanish architecture," he said simply, and I flushed.
I didn't know he was paying attention to what I was reading. "So where are you going to," he asked.
"Home."
"Ahh, the great place where mothers hug and kiss their daughters, and fathers chase out any guys who want to get close to her," he sighed exaggeratingly. I shrugged. To be quite honest I wouldn't know. I spent the last sixteen years of my life without a mother (I was three when she left), and my father didn't care much about my love life. Not that I had any to boast, but even if I did he wouldn't care. Jared Sage spent most of his time complaining about how imperfect, and how undeserving of love I was. I know he believes that, and deep down maybe I do too.
"How about you, where are you going?" I asked him.
He arched an eyebrow, "Why thinking of joining me?"
"No, but since you asked me, I thought it was only polite to ask you back," I answered honestly.
"So, it's out of being polite?"
"Yeah," I replied. He laughed, and announced that he was returning back to his nap that I unceremoniously ruined. I nodded my head and returned back to my book.
The bus had started driving again, but I don't know since when because I was talking to this man named Adrian. This man who has bright green eyes that seem like they can stare into my soul. I should stay away from him, and his all to knowing eyes. Then I realize, I probably will never see him again. Guys like that, don't hang out with girls like me. They hang out with the more carefree people like Jill, and her sister, and her sister's friends, but not me.
When the bus finally stopped after two or so hours, I grabbed my suitcase and got off. I wanted to say bye to the guy, and the pull was very strong, but I don't. Instead I left my book on the chair hoping that he will take it and remember he met me: the odd girl with the golden eyes, and blonde hair.
Getting off the bus I headed down the streets to my house, the house that my dad designed and the house that is worth at least ten million dollars in the real estate market. Yes, we are not poor, but his money does not equal my money. When I reached the gates of our house I rung the doorbell and heard the gate click open.
They were expecting me. Of course they were.
Entering the house, I noticed Zoey sitting on the couch texting her friends. "Hi," I said to her. She looked up and smiled at me, but the smile is wary like she doesn't want me here, and all my bravado from before about how I'm the most responsible one in the family falls apart.
Looking at her now, it's hard to say that she was the same sister I left before going to college. Her brown hair was cropped short, and her ever conservative and professional clothes were replaced with jean shorts and a strapless top. "What are you wearing?" I asked her.
She rolled her eyes at me. "It's called regular clothes. Please Sydney those things you're wearing is very last century," she added snidely. I wanted to yell at her for being a hypocrite. Less then five months ago, these were the type of clothes that she also wore, but I don't say anything. Instead, I see her flitting into my dad's office, kissing his cheek, and telling me that she has a date tonight.
I shrugged my shoulders, staring at my father sitting in the office. He smiled. He never smiled at me. When I first started kindergarten, instead of acting like other children's parents he simply dropped me off at the school, letting the five year old me navigate the foreign place. When I graduated high school he wasn't even there for the ceremony. Actually he wasn't there for a whole month after I graduated too. When I was accepted into a very good art school for architecture he shrugged it off.
But now, now he was smiling. I wonder if he could extend the same gesture to me.
Walking slowly towards his office I peaked my head in, hesitant, and scared. "I'm home," I whispered. He doesn't look up, "Hi, dad, I'm home," I say a little bit louder. After a few minutes he finally looks up.
Under his gaze I shrank a little. Jared Sage is as regal as he always was. He is giving me that stare. The one that makes me feel like I'm five again, and just started kindergarten. "What do you want?" he asks. I don't reply. Instead I stood frozen. "If you have nothing to say, then return to your room."
I nodded my head, and shuffled my feet towards my room.
That night, trying to escape the scrutiny of my home, I was heading towards a coffee shop at the corner of the road with my laptop in hand. Sitting down with the usual coffee I tend to drink, I opened the laptop and went over my latest design. It was a modern interpretation of Roman styles. The building was completed with arches, and columns, but with a modern twist. I was genuinely contented with the design, if only I could get some feedback.
"Are you stalking me?"
Startled I looked up to see someone I thought I would never see again. "Hi," I whispered almost breathlessly.
Pulling out a chair and sat directly across from me. "Considering the fact that I saw you three times already, I think you're stalking me," he pointed out. I could detect a slight hint of alcohol coming off of his clothes, so instead of answering his question I asked, "Have you been drinking?"
He rolled his eyes, "No, I am drinking," he says holding up a coffee cup with a straw in it. "My friends over there wanted some coffee," he explained nudging his shoulders over to a group of mainly girls, "but I'm not a coffee person. I enjoy the comfort of good wine, vodka, and hard liquor."
"Those stuff is bad for your body," I couldn't help but point out.
"So is smoking, but I still do it," he told me. "Anyways, you didn't answer me. Did you stalk me?"
I couldn't help but roll my eyes, "First of all, I've only met you twice, and I think you're too drunk to remember the fact," he was amused, "and no I haven't been stalking you, I just live close to this place that's all," I finished.
He leans forward and pushes my laptop screen forward a little and stares into my eyes. I am oddly scared even though I know he shouldn't scare me. "Have I told you I love your eyes, they are so golden," he muttered.
"I don't think that's what we were talking about," I stuttered, looking away. He grins, as his friend calls him back to the table. Leaning over he whispers into my ears, "I don't mind if you stalk me. Actually be my guest. I love to see a pair of golden eyes looking at me when I'm doing absolutely nothing."
He turned and walked back to his table leaving me stunned.
I hope you guys enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it. Please leave a review (and maybe follow) my story if you get a chance. I am also writing another story on here, it's called The Golden Lily Adrian's POV if you have time please check it out. I wrote it for Adrian fans whom want to know what went on in his head during The Golden Lily.