The Anomaly Read online

  I can’t help but smile. “Thanks. Of course I’ll come back.”

  Nathan smiles back.

  “I haven’t gotten you anything—”

  Nathan shakes his head. “Oh no, you don’t have to. I didn’t give you that for you to give me something back. It’s just to let you know that I’ve enjoyed this summer.”

  I tilt my head. “Best summer eh-vah.”

  We both laugh. Nathan tells me about his day and the encouraging phone call he received from his dad. He’d told him that with or without a painting, he knew his son was a success.

  I place my hand over my heart. “That’s so nice, Nate.”

  He nods. The waitress comes with our pizza, and I bite into a hot slice. A string of cheese stretches between the pizza and my mouth.

  “This is so good,” I mumble. “We’ll come back the next time I’m in town, because I won’t be eating this stuff when I’m back in New York.”

  Nathan chews and looks off in the distance. “Yeah, but you don’t know when. One modeling job can lead to another, and you’ll become booked up for a while.” He looks sad.

  In that moment, I know he cares about me. I sigh but don’t say anything, because I know there’s truth in what he’s said.

  ~

  Nathan, Dad, and Linda are all downstairs when I come down with my purse and a light jacket. Dad’s already carried my suitcase and carry-on bag into his SUV.

  “I think I have everything,” I say.

  Linda puts on her aviators. “Are you sure?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, let’s get this show on the road.” Dad claps. “You know I hate good-byes.”

  Linda gives him a pat on the back.

  We ride to the airport together. Nathan and I hold hands in the backseat, our shoulders touching. Dad and Linda talk to each other about how their businesses are going, but Nathan and I don’t talk much. Nathan’s in his usual good mood though, and he intermittently rubs his thumb over my hand.

  “I heard about what happened,” Dad says to Nathan. “Sorry about that.”

  Nathan nods, then shrugs. “What can I say? At least it only cost me thirteen dollars.”

  Dad chuckles, and Linda laughs. I look at Nathan, admiring his sense of humor.

  We hug each other after I check in, but before I venture through the security.

  “I love you, Shayna.” Dad tightens his hug before letting me go.

  “I love you too, Dad.”

  Linda rubs my back when she hugs me, and Nathan holds me the tightest.

  “See ya, kiddo.” He smiles, looking into my eyes.

  “Okay.”

  He gives me a light kiss on the lips while Linda whistles and nudges Dad.

  Nathan steps back and places his hands in his pockets. “Have a safe trip, Shayna.”

  I nod.

  “You know your room’s always open.” Linda winks.

  “So it’s not just the guest room?” I tease.

  “Well, whenever you’re back, if there’s a guest, we’ll just have to give them the boot.” Linda throws up her chin.

  Dad, Nathan, and I laugh.

  “We’re going now,” Dad says. He tips his chin toward the line on the other side of the automatic doors. “The line’s getting longer.”

  “Okay.” I sigh, wanting to make my time with them last as long as possible. “Bye for now.”

  Chapter 12

  I sit in the waiting area of Gate 8. Thankfully, I have less than a two-hour wait. I listen to some music on my iPod, but then I take out the ear buds and get up to buy a snack. I’m tempted to buy a bag of potato chips, but I’m working soon, so I opt for trail mix and a bottle of water. I go back to my gate, but the seat I was in is now taken, and I have to look for another chair. I see two that are right next to each other, so I scan the people around them. They look okay, not weird or anything, so I go and sit down.

  Near me are a woman and a teenage girl who’s probably her daughter. Both are looking down at their phones. A middle-aged man near them is dozing off. His hands are folded over his chest, and his neck and shoulders are slightly tilted. He’ll probably wake up soon, when his body needs a bed. A man in his thirties types away on his laptop. I look at them, wondering where they might be heading and if New York’s their final destination.

  A cell phone blasts a country song. It belongs to the man with the laptop, who pulls it out of his pocket in one fluid movement. He holds it to his ear. “O’Brien, buddy!” He laughs. “Yeah, I’ve been waiting on your call.” He laughs again.

  I turn to see if anyone else is watching him. He isn’t talking quietly, but everyone seems to be minding their business. I decide to do the same and take a magazine out of my purse. I like to see what fashion’s being shown.

  “Yeah, that’s way cool.”

  I look at the man, but this time, I roll my eyes and turn back to my magazine.

  “I’m heading to New York. April’s wedding’s the day after tomorrow. I told her fiancé he’d better be good to my sister.” Laughter. “Well, you know how it is. It’s good for in-laws to know that someone’s family has their back.”

  I look up and see him nodding.

  “Yeah... yeah. No, I got a new key. Yeah, sorry about that. I forgot to mention it to your wife, but yeah, I was able to get back in my house. Though it took about twelve hours. What else can you do when you don’t have a spare key to your home?”

  I frown, looking at the stranger with interest. He’s about to look my way, so I quickly avert my eyes back to my magazine.

  “I found a locksmith online. You can send them a picture of a key, and they’ll cut it.” He chuckles. “Yes, I’m serious—today’s technology.”

  He continues talking, but I no longer hear him. I feel a rush of heat dash through my body. My heart races and I’m confused. I’m not sure if what I’m feeling, what my intuition’s telling me, is to be believed. Could William have gotten into Nathan’s house with a picture of a key? Did I unwittingly give him the key to the prize he’s been after? I shake my head.

  He couldn’t have.

  As if time’s going in slow motion, a surge of different emotions pull at me. I only know that minutes have passed when the gate attendant announces on the intercom that the flight to JFK airport is ready to board.

  Telling Nathan what may have happened, how his painting may have gotten stolen, scares me. He warned me to stay away from William, but did I listen? No. I didn’t see the harm in it.

  I’m scared that telling him the truth may ruin any possibility we have at a long-term relationship. The logistics of my job can always be worked out. It’s not like I have to model throughout the whole year. I can take jobs a couple months at a time. I could even take bookings from past clients who want to work with me again and maintain an income. But how do I tell Nathan that a picture I gave William may have given him the key to Nathan’s home and access to the painting?

  I sit in my first-class seat on the airplane and pinch myself because the lines of reality seem blurry. Is it possible? I know what that man said on the phone is true. I feel the truth pulse through my body.

  Did I naively pierce Nathan’s heart by trusting William?

  The plane feels cold because the air vent above me is set on full blast, but I don’t turn the knob that’ll turn off the air. Instead, I stuff my hands into the pockets of my sweatshirt and feel something like paper. I pull the paper out of my pocket and see that it’s the envelope Nathan gave me at the pizza parlor. I’d put it there, wanting to open it when he told me to, but I had almost forgotten about it entirely. I stare at it for a few seconds before I open it.

  It’s not a prewritten greeting card where all he had to do was sign his name below sentimental words. He took the time to write a note inside a blank card.

  Dear Shayna,

  You have been a ray of light since we met. If I was going to war, I’d want you by my side. Your Truly, Nathan Theodor.

  Reading these words makes my heart ache. Ho
w will Nathan feel if he learns the truth? I feel as if my heart is reaching out to him and crumbling because I’ve let down someone I love. I sigh and close my eyes. Something has to be done. I know that giving William that photo was the first domino falling against a row of others.

  I stare out the window. Who would’ve thought I’d get hustled, of all places, in my home state of Missouri? I’m embarrassed that William tricked me. Maybe I was too naïve, but how could I have known that a simple picture would lead to millions walking out Nathan’s door? I twist uncomfortably in my seat.

  I have to tell him what happened. I know he might not react well. I grip my hair and shake my head. What will become of us? Can we have a relationship after this? I really want to tell Nathan what I think may have happened. The only way Nathan can possibly get the painting back is if I tell him. He’ll be able to find out from someone, somehow, whether or not William is still in possession of it.

  I no longer feel cold. The more I think about William tricking me, the more I fume. My skin feels hot with anger. I gaze at the clouds outside my window. There has to be a way to get that painting back. But first, I have to get through this job.

  Then I’ll return to him.

  Note from J.A. Cooper

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  PREVIEW

  Just to Be With You − The Instructor

  Chapter 1

  I’m already ten minutes late. Thinking that I have at least fifteen minutes to dress, I take my time, but the parking lot’s full when I pull up in my green Acura. I drive around looking to see if I missed a spot. But finding a parking spot near the Hollins Building turns out to be trickier than expected. I check the clock on my dashboard. Dang it. I drive around some more, hoping maybe there’s an open spot I didn’t see or that someone will pull out. Neither happens, and I end up having to drive over to the next parking lot closest to Hollins. All of the university’s English classes are held there. I grab my messenger bag from the passenger seat and click the button to lock my car.

  I take in a deep breath and begin to power-walk. I’m not wearing sneakers, and my shoes have a bit of a heel, so I don’t want to run and possibly fall. At this rate, it’ll take me about four minutes to reach Hollins and another minute to find room 201.

  But I decide to pace myself and run up the stairs when I reach the building. I prefer to make a good impression on my professors from day one. I mean, it’s better than standing out in a bad way by being late. I’m breathing heavier than I’d like to as I push open the classroom door. I stop short. Carter is standing in the front of the room.

  His expression tells me that, like me, he’s surprised. He drinks me in with his eyes. Those green eyes that make me melt—not only because green’s my favorite color, it’s also because of the way that man looks at me with them.

  He’s wearing a beige sweater zipped up over a white T-shirt, but I can still make out his lean, muscular frame. It’s easy to tell that he’s the athletic type. I immediately want to go up to him, but I’m not sure why he’s even here. Instead, I look around for an empty seat in the classroom, taking one in the back row. Though a few students in the class are looking at me, I try to move as quiet as possible.

  I glance at Carter, but don’t want to tempt myself and get too close right now. I sit down. We watch each other. Carter smiles and moves closer to the desk at the front of the classroom. He picks up a paper and pencil from the desk and makes a mark on the paper.

  “Well, it seems like the last student’s here.” Carter looks up at me. “Nice of you to join us, Leigh.”

  Chapter 2

  Weeks Earlier

  I’ve wanted out of my relationship with Todd for the longest time. He’s the world’s biggest moocher, and I’m tired of it. The only reason I’ve kept on in our relationship is that he’s become something of a habit. And habits are comfortable things. But at this point, the fact that we’ve been dating since high school doesn’t matter to me anymore.

  I was a freshman and he was a sophomore when he first asked me out, so it’s been almost seven long years. Who would have thought it back then...shy little Leigh dating one of the most popular guys in school, one of the stars of the baseball team. But we lasted through those years, even after he started college a year earlier than me.

  I sometimes wonder if people just “assumed” we’d be together forever. I know that’s what I thought back then, when I was more naive and innocent. Now that I’m living in “the real world”...my own apartment, a part-time job, plans for the future...and have matured, Todd and I don’t seem so ideal as a couple anymore.

  It’s tough enough trying to keep up decent grades in school while working twenty hours a week. So it doesn’t help when Todd eats up my groceries and uses my expensive skin care products. He even had the nerve to tell me once to buy more of my pricey body butter, while his bottle of lotion sat on the dresser. I mean, he already graduated from Westfield University and I’m going to be a senior there soon. So I don’t see why it’s so hard for him to contribute more. Todd’s lame excuse is that he has a low-paying, entry-level job. One of the things that grates on my nerves, though, is the fact that he thinks it’s the company’s fault that he doesn’t have a higher-paying, more prestigious title. It has nothing to do with the fact that he won’t go in one minute early or stay one minute late or, that he does only what he needs to do. Todd definitely lacks ambition and initiative.

  And my parents pay the rent for my apartment. We did some “cost calculating” when I started looking at colleges and the decision was mutual. Because I graduated with an “A” average, yes, I deserved to live on my own. Going out of town, though, was not cost effective. My parents would pay the rent for an apartment here in town, and I would work a part-time job so I could save some money. But none of us had factored Todd into the picture.

  “So it’s not like you really have this big bill every month. You work to pay for the extras in life,” Todd says.

  It’s not even true.

  In no way am I simply saving for life’s extras. I don’t need to get a mani-pedi every week, or even every month, for that matter. I can make do with getting my nails and my toes done for special occasions.

  I’m actually saving half of my money for after graduation, so I’ll have a nice cushion to sit on once I’m finished with university. I’m not too sure if I want to go full-time at my current job, and taking a month off after school is an appealing option. I also know that my parents won’t be paying my housing costs forever. Anyway, my patience with Todd is evaporating. Going kaput.

  I’ve told him repeatedly, “Let’s take a break.” But he never wants to, telling me we’ve been in our relationship too long and we just need to pass whatever hurdle we’re facing. But for me, the money aspect isn’t the only thing that bugs me. Seriously, I don’t even get half the costs of our monthly grocery bill from him. It’s also the fact that Todd doesn’t make me feel special anymore. He spends more time with his friends than with me. I’m not sure what they do, but I do know that he often reeks of cheap wine when he gets back. Why don’t I care enough lately to ask where he’s been and what he’s been doing? And I can’t even remember the last time he’s told me that he loves me.

  The longest Todd and I have ever been apart is one week. Then he comes moping back to my apartment after sleeping at his parents’ house. His childhood bedroom is exactly how he left it before moving out for college. Shouldn’t that be telling me something, reveal something to me about both Todd, and his parents? They might be happy with the status quo, but I’m starting to realize I’m not.

  Whenever we go out to eat, I’m stuck picking up the tab. I even believed in Todd’s dream of becoming a personal chef, lending him $1500 to attend a training seminar for those in the food industry who want to open their own restaurant. But he’s now working an office job, so that was a waste of my savings. And though he often cooked me fancy dinners when he first moved in to
my apartment, he now rarely cooks.

  I’m beyond fed up with the way things are going between us, so when he calls for me to meet him for lunch, I agree. I munch on a chicken pita wrap and a Caesar salad while Todd wolfs down two beef gyros. We both sip smoothies but don’t talk much to each other. In my mind, we are the couple that knows enough about each other not to really have to ask any questions. Or maybe it’s just that we’re no longer very interested in what the other person has to say.

  “I’ll be late coming home tonight,” Todd mumbles. He chews at a piece of beef. “I’m going bowling with some co-workers after work.” He slurps up the last drain of his drink.

  I nod and bite into my pita.

  The check comes and I ask Todd to pay. He says he can’t, he doesn’t have any cash on him and would rather not use his credit card. “I’ll pay for lunch next time, Leigh.” I don’t answer him because I can feel the frustration underneath the surface of my skin trying to work its way out. I refrain from any sort of tantrum, knowing that they no longer work on Todd. Neither does asking or begging. He is who he is.

  I go home and call a locksmith to change the lock on my apartment door. My friend, Amanda, helps me pack Todd’s clothes. She is the only one I have confided in lately, venting about Todd and his lack of motivation, his nonchalance and lack of desire, my reasons for trying to save money. Amanda and I go back almost as far Todd and I, so she’s been there for all our ups-and-downs. But Amanda is not the type of person that will say, “I told you so.” Instead, she drives with me to his parents’ house twelve miles away.

  I do love the guy’s mother, and we’ve always gotten along well. But this doesn’t mean I owe her an explanation as to why I am dropping off Todd’s clothes and belongings. He is her “baby” and she would most likely disagree with my viewpoint anyway. So I leave her standing in the front hallway, tongue-tied, when I turn to walk out. “It’s over. That’s all I can say.”