My Darling Arrow (St. Mary's Rebels 1)

I flinched automatically, thinking that it would feel cold.

But it didn’t.

The water that he touched with his hands, that landed on me, did not feel cold at all. In fact, it made me feel warm.

His whole presence made me feel warm.

Like he was the sun or something.

My sun.

After he was done with washing his face, he bent toward the fridge and took out a juice carton. He proceeded to gulp half of it before he realized someone was watching him.

He whipped his eyes over to me, where I was hiding, all crouched and trying to make myself into a ball to preserve the warmth in my body.

He frowned and I sort of smiled.

Because his eyes were blue. They made me think of summer and sunshine and melting in the grass while catching the sun.

“Don’t tell my mom,” he said, motioning to the juice carton. “She gets upset when people drink right out of the carton.” And then he frowned even harder, taking me in completely. “Are you cold?”

I wanted to answer him. I wanted to tell him that his secret was safe with me. That I’d never tell on him in a million years for breaking his mom’s rule.

And then I wanted to tell him that no, I wasn’t cold.

That somehow, he made all the cold go away with his sun-struck hair and sweaty, tanned skin and summer-blue eyes.

I wish I had.

I really, really wish that I had said something. Because when the moment passed, I never got the chance to tell him.

Because in a split second, everything changed.

The whole course of my life.

And his, too.

Because just then my sister walked in, Sarah, and he turned to look at her and he never looked away.

He hasn’t looked away from her since that moment.

So basically, in the last eight years that I’ve known him, he’s only looked at me with his full focus that one time. Since then, his focus has been on my sister.

The love of his life.

I can’t really say for sure if the moment in the kitchen was when I fell in love with him.

I mean, I was freaking cold and scared after my mom’s death. We’d just moved into a new house, a new town. Before then we’d only heard about the Carlisles in passing. We’d never met them because my mom and Leah had always been busy with their careers.

And a boy strangely made me feel warm for the first time in weeks.

I’m pretty sure that meant falling in love in my ten-year-old brain.

But now that I’m older and I have more perspective, I’m not sure. Maybe it happened in the coming days.

When I’d see him come back from his run and dutifully pull out a glass from the cabinet and pour juice in it before drinking. Or when I’d see him cleaning up after himself after each meal, picking up his laundry, his soccer cleats, even though they had a maid who could do those things. Or when I’d see him fix things around the house – especially the heat one day – even though again, they could call a guy if they wanted to.

It made my heart race that even at the age of fifteen, he was the man of the house.

His dad died in a sudden plane crash when he was seven. And in the coming days, I found out that he took that very seriously, his dad’s death, the responsibility that came with it, the fact that he wanted to walk in his father’s shoes.

My own father had left my sister and my mother just after I was born because he couldn’t handle responsibility. So this was all new to me.

I’d never met anyone like Arrow Carlisle before.

Someone who was so serious and determined and focused. Not only around the house but at his school too. On top of being a straight-A student, Arrow was also their soccer superstar.

Honestly though, it isn’t surprising at all because A, Arrow’s dad was a pro soccer player himself.

And B, Arrow would spend hours practicing at the school. He’d spend hours watching game tapes in his room, and sometimes I’d find him dribbling the ball in the backyard, practicing drills and exercising before a big game.

Soccer was and is his life. He was born into it.

So I don’t know when I fell in love with him.

All I know is that when I was falling in love with Arrow, he was falling in love with someone else.

With my sister, Sarah.

And they are perfect for each other.

Perfect.

They’re both the same age.

They are both good-looking and popular. Both of them have high ambitions and goals.

In fact, they’re so perfect for each other, so devoted, that when Leah had objections about her son dating her ward, they did everything to convince her. Leah made rule after rule, gave them strict schedules and ultimatums about grades and hanging out together with their bedroom doors open, and they aced every test she put forth.