Meant to Be (The Saving Angels 1)

I walked over to my window so I could watch it rise. I pulled the cord that hung down from my ancient blinds. The blinds made a loud rustling noise as they rolled up. We had discussed replacing the blinds with some cute curtains, but we kept putting it off. I was sick of the ugly blinds, so maybe I would replace them this weekend.

I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Someone was on our front lawn, but strangely enough, I felt no panic at all. For some reason I expected him to be there.

I stared at him for a few seconds trying to organize my thoughts and then I headed out the door and down the stairs. I had put off the talk yesterday, but I was ready for it now.

Opening the front door quietly, I stepped outside. I could feel him the moment I stepped over the threshold. The impact of looking at him was no different than it had been the day before. If anything, the pull seemed even stronger today.

“It’s you?” I said.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he answered.

“You knew yesterday in class?”

“Yes, I knew the moment you looked up at me. It was like being punched in the stomach.”

“Have you always been able to see my face?” I asked.

“For as long as I can remember,” He replied.

“I’ve never been able to see your face…. until last night.”

“I figured that out in class yesterday, when you looked so confused. I tried to tell you. I waited for you yesterday,” he gently chided me.

“I know. I just needed time. I was so confused yesterday. There I was hitting on my teacher’s intern in a class filled with other people,” I said, still feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Why have you been leaving me?” I asked abruptly. I had meant to ask the question later, but I felt the answer to this question was the most important.

Mark looked confused. “I don’t leave, you’re the one who leaves……” he paused, as understanding dawned on both of us. Neither one of us wanted to leave in the dreams. Something else was pulling us apart.

“What does this mean?” I asked.

“I don’t know. When did you move here?”

“A few weeks ago. OH!” I shrilled, suddenly aware. Why hadn’t I seen it before? The dreams changed the first night in my new house, my first night in Santa Cruz.

“Why did my moving to California change our dreams?”

“I don’t know.”

He settled into the swing on the porch, placing his hands on his jean clad knees. I sat beside him as we silently pondered our dreams. It all seemed surreal to be sitting here next to him, when I had fantasized about this my whole life.

I sat with my hands folded in my lap, consciously aware that his hand was just inches away. I yearned to reach over and grab onto it, but I fought back the urge. Part of me was scared that his touch wouldn’t be the same as yesterday, while the other part was afraid it would feel just as magical, and I wouldn’t want to let go. Just when I knew I was fighting a losing battle, Mark took the matter out of my hands.

Mark reached over and took my hand firmly in his. Though I was expecting it, I still momentarily lost my breath. His touch made everything feel right. Our dreams no longer mattered. All I cared about was that we were together now. I had imagined this moment forever. Even though I thought I would never really meet him, somewhere in my heart of hearts, I had always hoped for it.

I knew it was crazy. People didn’t go around meeting guys they had dreams about. This was real life not some science fiction novel. Dream Guys like this, just didn’t exist. It went against everything I believed in, but looking down at our hands it was hard to deny the connection. Even with our hands lightly clasped together, I could feel the most pleasant warmth from his touch spread throughout my whole body.

He asked me what I was thinking. I tried to put it into words. I explained the confusion, and how all this just seemed unreal.

“I know. Yesterday when I first saw you, I felt the same way. I was so shocked. Here was a girl, I had only dreamed about, sitting just mere feet from me. At first I was going to ignore you, but that was before our hands met. That’s when I knew for sure that I wasn’t hallucinating. Your touch was so familiar, and at the same time so new. Here I was, acting like some junior high guy who had just met some hot model; instead of the professional I was supposed to be. I tried to ignore you through the rest of class, but by the end, I knew it was too late.”

He brought up an important point that I had almost forgotten.

“How did you wind up at my high school?”

“School has always been easy for me. I skipped most of elementary school and graduated at the top of my class when I was fifteen. I received my bachelor’s degree in two and half years. I had to work my tail off to convince the board of trustees to let me use St. Briggets for my thesis.”

Okay, so now I knew how we had both wound up at St. Briggets, but it didn’t make it any less bizarre. The fact that he was still an intern concerned me though.