I hop in and out of the shower, brush my teeth, and squeeze some gel into my hands, running my fingers through my hair. Looking in the mirror, I see a twenty - t wo - y ear -o ld young man, with piercing blue eyes and wild brown hair, staring back at me. Today could change my life. I take a deep breath in. Will Scarlette give me a chance? Today is the day I plan to take a new approach with her—she’s still all I can think a bout.
Back in my room, I find a pair of faded blue jeans and a forest -
g reen shirt. My phone says 7:25 am , but I’ve already told Liam and Philip to catch a ride to school with each other since I have a plan of my own in mind. I run downstairs to the kitchen, guided by the sweet smell of Lizzie’s homemade pancakes, Adam’s favourite. I walk in, and sure enough, Adam is sitting on a bar stool at the kitchen island with a towering plateful, while Lizzie flips more pancakes on the flat grill. It still feels as though Adam lives at home, since he spends more time here, than he does at his penthouse in Yaletown, overlooking False Creek and the ma rina.
I take a seat on the stool next to him, and my mother looks up from pouring a glass of orange juice for her self.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” she greets me warmly. Her hair is already perfectly combed, as u sual.
“You’re an early bird today,” she says. “What’s the occasion?”
She looks at me as if she knows I’m up to somet hing.
“There’s no occasion, Mom. Just woke up on time t oday.”
This is a lie, of course. Lizzie places a plate of pancakes and a glass of orange juice in front of me. She gives me the same
knowing smile as my mother, her green eyes bright with their usual since rity.
“Thank you, Lizzie,” I say, as she nods and turns back to the g rill.
“If you say so, but your eyes tell me differently,” my mother says, checking her watch. “Anyway, I must run to work.” She finishes her glass of orange juice and picks up her brief case.
“Where’s Dad?” I ask, just as she turns to leave the kit chen.
“He got called into the hospital at five o’clock this morning for a cardiac arrest. I’m praying he arrived on time for the patient,” she says with a mournful sigh.
“I hope so too, Mom,” Adam responds, able to engage in the conversation now that he’s done with his panc akes.
“Have a wonderful day, Emily,” Lizzie says as my mom walks out of the kitchen, smiling back at her.
I turn to Adam and take a bite of my pancake. “Did you get back late last night? How was your weekend with Nat alie?”
“It wasn’t late, but Natalie wanted to see a movie when we got back to the city. Gotta keep my girl happy,” he replies with a smirk on his face. His blue eyes are even brighter today under the light -b lue baseball hat he’s wea ring.
I take another bite and look up to see Lizzie smiling to herself as she cooks. I know Lizzie and my mother are delighted that Adam and Allison have found someone who makes them happy—now, they wish the same for me, but I guess they know by now I’m not a big believer in soulmates. It’s just attraction between two pe ople.
“You should make the trip up there yourself, Elvis. Whistler is always beautiful this time of year, and you haven’t been up to the cottage in years,” Adam suggests, lifting an eyebrow a t me.
I think about it for a second but then dismiss it, ignoring him.
Lizzie gives me a worried, side -l ong glance, and I decide to wolf down my pancakes before the atmosphere in the kitchen becomes more awkward. Every so often my family will remind me of things I’ve tried to stop thinking about since the summer of my high school graduation. This isn’t quite as bad as when my mother begs me to play my acoustic guitar. I miss the sound of your soul
, my mother’s words play back in my head. I snap out of it, blinking rapidly, and shift off my s tool.
“I’ve got to go, don’t want to be late for school,” I say, passing my plate to Lizzie as she reaches out to take it fro m me.
“Worried about being late to school, Elvis? This must be a new start for you,” I hear Allison say as she walks into the kit chen.
She is still wearing her pyjamas and sporting a mess of bed hair.
She rubs her eyes, taking a seat on the stool across from Adam, and gives me a smirk. Allison knows what my plan is for today.
Adam and Lizzie look towards me and try to read my expression, realizing they’re missing something. I shake my head.
“Bye!”
I smirk back at Allison as I walk out of the kitchen to our large double front doors. I slip my shoes on and walk straight to my Lexus, jumping in the driver seat and bringing Snow White out of her sleep. I can’t wait to get on my way, and with the press of a button, the large gates open for me to l eave.
I walk through the halls of the university, towards my first class, excited about seeing Scarlette and hoping today will be a new start like Allison said. Just as I turn the corner, I see her walking along with other students, trying to make it to their morning class. I notice she has company, a tall skinny guy with dark hair walking beside her. She has her eyes locked on the ground as he says something to her that I can’t hear. Who is this guy? As they reach the classroom door, they stop for a short minute and he places both hands on her shoulders, saying something to her. Scarlette only nods before she makes her way in. He waits for a few seconds, just standing there, watching her walk further into class, then he continues down the hall and enters another classroom. I’m not happy about the closeness I witnessed between them, and I suddenly feel a pang of jealousy, another emotion which now brews in me that I’m not use d to.
I speed into class to make sure I can find a seat near her but try to keep it cool, hoping that my eagerness won’t be too obvious. My eyes quickly find hers and we stare at each another for a few seconds. I notice her eyes have sadness in them today.
She breaks eye contact, looking back down at her notebook with her pen in her hand, doodling. Luckily there’s still an empty seat next to hers and I move towards it. As I place my bag on the ground and slowly take my seat, I catch myself still staring at her. Have I even taken my eyes off her once? I can’t help but want to know why she has that look in her eyes, what’s made the sparkle disappear from her beautiful chocolate -b rowns ? She slyly glances at me from under the tips of her lashes then looks back at her notebook. A subtle smile plays on her lips and her cheeks blush. She’s letting me know that she noticed me staring.
It’s so quiet in the classroom that you could hear a pin drop.
The professor has his nose in the textbook, and everyone is waiting patiently for him to start his lecture. I carefully rip a piece of paper out of my notebook, as quietly as I can, and w rite:
Not a good mor ning?
I fold the paper in half, but before I can place it on Scarlette’s desk, her hand reaches out towards me, taking the note. I try not to watch as she unfolds the paper and reads it.
She writes something, folds it back together, and places it on top of my desk.
Just another mor ning.
I turn towards her to see if she’s watching me read it, but she’s looking straight ahead. I write and pass the note back.
Disagreeing with your boyfr iend?
She reads it and chuckles softly. It’s like the sweet sound of music to my ears. The noise makes the professor lift his eyes from his book, raising his eyebrows at us, but we both ignore his reaction. Scarlette starts to write again. She picks up the note to hand it back, but this time I stretch my arm out halfway to take it. My fingers lightly touch her hand, and the sensation makes both of us draw in a breath at the same time. We look into each other’s eyes for a second before she glances away fro m me.