Page 3 of Treasured Secrets
"Shopaholic," Jay teased.
She rolled her eyes, but I became distracted from the conversation when I saw someone familiar. It was Selesha, Jay's Southern Belle friend who had come with him to Haluali the last time he visited. I had thought she was his girlfriend, but neither would confirm nor deny. Instead, she said she was there to protect him. I remember laughing so hard it hurt.
"Selesha's here," I murmured, pointing with my eyes.
"Selesha?" Jay asked, a lilt to his voice. "I thought they sent Mc-"
"Selesha," Gear called, interrupting Jay and waving her over. His eyes scolded Jay for some reason, and oddly enough, my cocky brother backed down. So weird.
She jogged toward us with a salacious grin on her face, her eyes only finding one focus. Gross.
Jay blushed and three of my bags fell to the ground when he forgot to hold onto them. Ash let out a harsh breath, growling almost, and she scooped up the fallen.
"He's all drool and Jell-o now," Ash retorted. "Thanks, Selesha."
Jay growled at Ash, but she walked away, dragging me behind her as the sparks flew between the sweet southern girl and my dissolving brother. What was Jay going to say? Why did Gear look mad?
Before I could seek answers, I saw that same guy again, and I started feeling as goofy and ridiculous as I had witnessed Jay act. My lips parted, my heart fluttered, and this hoard of butterflies slammed into my stomach in waves of repetition. He was alone this time. The stocky guy had disappeared, and now this masterpiece was talking on a phone, oblivious to me. Who was he?
Right as we were seconds away from being close, Ash violently veered my path. At the last possible second, my eyes found his, and I thought I was going to unravel. All it took was a split second to become putty.
I was starting to realize how completely inexperienced I was. Everyone prepared me for my life here through books and lectures. I passed my driver's test, got my license, and even managed to excel. I had studied all the month's worth of work I'd missed at school, and I was ready to face the scholarly challenge. I'd been given makeup sessions, hairstyling courses, and lessons on matching my attire.
I was prepared for everything... I thought.
