Meant to Be (The Saving Angels 1)

“That’s perfect, I love fast food,” I said, acting like he didn’t already know.

He laughed.

“You and Sam can go upstairs. I’ll grab some plates and some sodas,” I said to Shawn. Shawn and I hadn’t done a whole lot of talking, and I still felt a little self conscious around him. Usually, Sam monopolized the conversation, or the guys would converse amongst themselves. They had spent hours philosophizing how we all managed to wind up together here. They had theories that ranged from mystical to science fiction, but it was hard to think of any reason that didn’t sound completely ridiculous to me.

Mark and I headed to the kitchen and grabbed some paper plates, napkins, and sodas. We could hear the easy bantering between Shawn and Sam as we carried everything up to my loft. It seemed so strange to have so many people over. Growing up, my parents had lots of friends, but they usually hung out at their houses so I wouldn’t be uncomfortable around them. For the most part, it had always been us three, and then when my dad passed it away, it was just the two of us.

The four of us chatted while we filled up on junk food. We never seemed to run out of topics. We all have IQ’s that are higher than average, and we discovered that we have read many of the same books. Although, Shawn’s taste ran a little more toward sci-fi and Mark’s seemed more mystical, (which is how we wound up with the wide spectrum of theories). Sam and I were both diehard romantics, and loved many of the same classics.

After we were done eating, I grabbed my laptop and booted it up. While the computer was warming up, Mark pulled out the small notebook we were using to write down the connections we all shared.

I read over his shoulder as he added all the same books we had all read to the list. Sam and I named off others he had forgotten.

“I made a list of more websites for us to check out,” he said. “I think we should Google the name ‘Franklin,’ and see what comes up. All this time I thought Franklin was the guy’s name, but now I’m wondering if that’s a cover. It bothers me that Krista mentioned ‘Franklin’ to the authorities, but couldn’t remember her mom or dads name,” he said.

“Well, she was only two,” Sam piped in.

“Yeah, but I think most two-year-olds can say their own name. We all know we’re smarter than average. So, how come most two-year-olds can tell you their parent’s names, but Krista couldn’t? Doesn’t that strike you as weird?” he asked. “I can’t help wondering if she was separated from her parents a long time before this ‘Franklin’ person dropped her off.”

“I thought we already decided that this whole thing is weird,” Sam piped in once again.

I settled on the floor with Sam and Mark on each side of me, while Shawn settled into the lazy-boy across from us. I clicked on the Internet icon and soon we were surfing the web. Technology is a wonderful thing.

I typed in the name ‘Franklin’ on the Google screen. We could see that the list that popped up was endless and had multiple pages. I used the mouse to scroll down the list. Mark wrote down some that might be helpful. The first one on his list was for a trucking company named ‘Franklin and Sons.’ We all decided it made sense. Maybe a trucker dropped me off and used the name on the side of the truck. We all mulled it over, it seemed plausible.

I clicked onto the ‘Franklin and Sons’ website. It opened to a full page ad that had a big semi-truck on it. I clicked the icon that showed the history of the company. We were all disappointed when we read that the company was founded only five years ago by a man and his two sons.

“Well there goes that idea,” Sam commented.

I exited out of that page and went back to the listings for Franklin. The next one on the list was for a pharmaceutical company. We discarded that one and moved on down the list. We searched for over an hour, but no other websites panned out. Finally giving up, I switched off the computer.

“I need another soda,” Sam said, rising from her spot on the floor. “Does anyone else need anything?”

“I do,” Mark and I both said in unison.

“I’ll go with you,” Shawn said as we all laughed.

Shawn grabbed Sam’s hand and gave her a quick but searing kiss before he led her down the stairs. I couldn’t help the shot of envy that sliced through me. I envied the ease they had. They seemed to know exactly what the other wanted and they were so attuned to each other, it was like watching an old couple waltz on the dance floor for the millionth time. They seemed aware of every move the other was going to make. I couldn’t help thinking despairingly that maybe Mark and I were not as good a fit as they were.

I set the computer off to the side and turned to face Mark and saw that he was staring at me intently. My pulse sped up when he reached over and twirled a lock of my hair around his finger.

“You are so beautiful. I’ve seen you hundreds of times in my dreams over the years, but they never did you justice,” he said, as if he sensed my insecurities.

My breath came out in small shallow gasps as we stared intently at each other. Was this the moment I had waited for, was he finally going to kiss me? My palms began to sweat.

I closed my eyes as he slowly leaned toward me.

My eyes sprung open at the sound of Sam and Shawn bounding up the stairs.

“Oops sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Sam said flushing a dull pink.

Swallowing my disappointment, I heard Mark let out a small groan of frustration. I felt my heart lighten. Well, at least it seems like he wanted to kiss me this time, I thought to myself.

Mark stood up. “We better head out,” he said to Shawn. “We’ll meet you guys tomorrow at the Boardwalk.”

I stood up also. “That sounds perfect. My mom said I could borrow the car all day. She’s finally going to start painting tomorrow, so she’s looking forward to having the house to herself.”

Sam and I walked the guys down the stairs. Sam followed Shawn out the front door and walked him to the car probably trying to give us privacy for interrupting us upstairs. Mark missed the hint though and only paused briefly; he used his palm to cup my face, but instead of kissing me, he gently rubbed his thumb over my bottom lip. I shivered from the contact and felt goose bumps pop up along my arms. Holy cow, if kissing him felt half as good as this, I knew I was a goner.