The Key (Heartfire) (2 page)

Hell, it was everything she owned more or less.

Every last bit of it was rolled up into the beautiful quilt her Nan had given her for her sixteenth birthday. The quilt was comprised of scraps from sewing projects, faded curtains and, most meaningfully, from a few of the old dresses her mother had left behind.

Those little snips and bits were all Kaylia had left of her. It wasn't much, but it kept her warm and safe at night. And that magical feeling stayed with her all through the night, even in her dreams.

Until she had to wake up and face the real world anyway.

On her feet were her one pair of sneakers, plus the broken in penny loafers that swung from her arm in a plastic grocery bag. 'Traveling light' her grandmother called it. 'Being poor' was another way to put it.

Speaking of which, she was in dire need of some grub.

It was mid-morning and she was starving. She'd gotten on the bus yesterday afternoon with a bag full of snacks. Mostly fruit but also a tuna fish sandwich and one of her favorite bags of chips. Those were long gone, as was the bottled water and iced tea she'd brought along.

Kaylia started walking the half a mile from the bus station to campus. She stopped and got an iced tea from a deli and kept walking. No need to show up with a scratchy throat after all. She hoped the dining hall was open soon. That was included in her scholarship, so all her meals had to come from there.

And all this walking was working up one hell of an appetite

She didn't mind too much though. It was a beautiful day and she got the lay of the land.
 

Besides, she was used to being hungry. Not starving. Nan set a good table. But there wasn't always enough for seconds. And snacking was a foreign concept in her house.

Like she always said, dirt poor.

Thank goodness for financial aid and scholarships. Her Gran had always pushed her to work hard at school and it had paid off. Kaylia had earned both merit and hardship assistance. Even with that she already owed more money than her Nan's tiny house was worth. Or would by the end of the year.

Never mind how deep she'd be in the hole after four years...

She hadn't even set foot on campus yet or learned one thing and she was already in over her head.
Better make this count girl.
Kaylia had a habit of making things count. Art class at school for one thing. Mrs. Craddock had developed a system of letting Kaylia stay after school and use all the supplies. She was the star art pupil after all, and her teacher had known that money was hard to come by.

Those afternoons had earned her a spot in the coveted Fine Arts department, as well as provided the portfolio that had won her yet another scholarship in mixed media. Kaylia loved drawing, painting and sculpture, though she planned to major in Art History, and minor in fine art.

It was safer. Smarter. And lord knows she had to be smart.

She was sweaty and tired by the time she found her dorm. She stared up at the gray stone building. It was bigger than the town hall back home. She squared her shoulders and climbed the three flights to her dorm room.

The hallway was bustling, with parents and kids everywhere. There were trunks and boxes and luggage clogging the way. She nudged her way through, trying to be polite about it.

Finally, Kaylia pushed the door open to her room. A pretty blond girl was already arranging one side of the room. There were pink pillows everywhere. A sparkly pink lamp sat on the desk next to a laptop and printer.
 

The laptop was also pink.

Kaylia blinked and shifted self-consciously on her feet.

"Hi."

The blond looked up with a friendly smile that quickly faded.

"Hi. Kaylia right?"

The girl was looking her over and obviously finding her wanting. Kaylia noticed she was staring at her shoes and lack of luggage. She sighed, already resigned to being the odd girl out.

Again.

Kaylia knew she looked like a wet rat at a pedigree dog show. That was the main reason she kept to herself for the most part back home. She'd most likely do the same here, new start or not.

It was just easier that way.
 

Plus, she didn't want anyone to figure out just how different she
really
was.

"Yes, I'm Kaylia. Are you Charisse?"

The girl nodded slowly.

"It's pronounced Charrr-eeese."

"Okay."

And that was that.

Dylan

♘

"We're so proud of you, Son."

"Thanks Mom, Dad."

Dylan hugged his mother, shaking his father's hand with the firm grip he knew was expected. His mother kissed his cheeks, trying to hide the tears that were in her eyes. He watched as they got into the rented van and drove off. He was ashamed to admit how relieved he was when the taillights disappeared from view.

Not that he wouldn't miss them, but he was ready to get started in his new life.

A life where he wasn't fussed over constantly. Or waited on hand and foot. Or expected to be something that he wasn't all that sure he wanted to be.

The Golden Boy. The Prodigal Son. The American Dream.

Dylan was ready to stand on his own two feet for once in his life. Who he was exactly... well, he wasn't in a rush to figure that out. Besides, he had a feeling that was still to be determined.

"Heads up big D!"

His hands came up and closed around the bottle of cold beer one of his roommates had just chucked out the window. Already there was music blaring out the window. They must have been waiting for his parents to leave. Dylan smiled and climbed the stairs to his suite. He took one look around and shook his head.

This was going to be interesting.

A lot had happened in the ten minutes he'd been outside. Six or seven guys were sprawled on the sofas drinking out of plastic red cups and beer bottles. They were throwing footballs around the room while one guy flipped through what looked like a vast array of porn channels.

Apparently the suite came with an extensive cable package.

Dylan knocked the top off his beer and took a swig.

"Hey man! Welcome to the pussy palace. You are going to get so much tail here you have no idea."

A finger poked him in the chest and he grunted.

"You my friend are going to be swimming in it."

Dylan smiled and lifted his drink, looking around. There was a huge bowl full of condoms on the dining room table. He didn't say a word, though he thought it was a little bit crass to have them out in the open like that.

Dylan had never really had a problem with girls. They'd already threw themselves at him on a daily basis in high school. And that was before he was on a nationally ranked college team. To him, all this posturing looked pretty desperate.

Not that he was going to say that. He wasn't an idiot after all. He needed to be a part of the team and eventually, the leader. He wasn't going to start out by being a wet blanket or telling them they sounded like pigs.

He
was
hoping this wasn't a nightly occurrence though. They had practice in the morning. And he was here to get a degree too, not just a beer gut. He made small talk while he finished his drink and went into his room to unpack.

The guys were still partying when he microwaved a snack and ate it an hour later, trying to ignore the naked bodies thrusting on the TV. It's not that he had a problem with porn. He just didn't see the point in watching it, en masse. It's not like you could whack off in front of your roommates.

Besides, he had better things to fantasize about.

Chapter Three

Kaylia

☼

Kaylia heaved the huge stainless steel tub of mashed potatoes off the rolling metal caddy. It was at least thirty pounds of hot, steaming buttery goodness. She could smell it as she lowered it into the serving caddy.

Man, these athletes ate well...

There was nothing like this at the dining hall where she got her three square-ish meals a day. And she could be stuck there, staring her dormmates in the face while she dished out sub-human food.

No, this was much better.

Kaylia was well aware that she'd landed one of the better work study slots, not that it was glamorous by any stretch of the imagination. She adjusted the cap covering her hair and retied her apron. No, definitely not glamorous.

Or easy.

Her muscles were already aching and she'd only been there for two hours of the six-hour shift. But there was a bright side to working in the athletic complex on the other side of campus. A really, really big bright side.

When you served the athletes, you got to eat what they ate. And they ate
extremely
well. Filet mignon, roast chicken, salmon and rice and steamed veggies for almost every meal. Eggs benedict and ham most mornings. It was a far cry from what they served in the dorms. Which was mostly warmed over lasagna and wilted salads.

Yuck.

Oh yeah, working in the athletic center was a prized job for all the work study students.

And she'd somehow lucked into the work slot twice a week, with a third 'floater' shift that took her where they needed her. Catering special events on the weekends mostly. She'd already done a few meet and greets for various departments.

So far, those weren't bad either.

This was her first shift at the athletic center. They'd been prepping and cooking since she had gotten there but now the doors were open and it was time to serve. Another two hours and they'd close down. Then they'd get a chance to eat the leftovers before clean up. Kaylia's stomach growled from the delicious smells filling the room.

The players were filtering in now, standing in line. Her manager handed her a scooper and she took her position in front of the mashed potatoes. They were real ones too, made with real butter and boiled potatoes. She hadn't had any that weren't from a mix since she was a little girl and was looking forward to tasting the fluffy white concoction.

More than once she felt eyes on her. The players walked down the line, mostly saying nothing. She kept her head down, even when one of them tried to make conversation. He wasn't the last one either.

Boys seemed to act the fool around her more often than not. She'd learned to tune them out. She wasn't fooled by flattery either. Pretty didn't get you too far in this world. Smart was much better.

For the most part she ignored the players, not even bothering to spare them a glance. They were just another part of the scenery to her, even if they did make her a bit nervous. The guys were huge, hulking over her. There were a few who tried to talk to her, though she could not imagine why. It certainly wasn't that she was putting out flirtatious vibes with her outfit.

Not that she ever really thought too much about her looks. Nan had taught her not to put stock in being pretty. But she knew where she stood on the teenage food chain. Sort of in the middle, due to good genes, but not too high because of her worn out clothes and lack of makeup or fancy hairstyle.

She wore an oversized t-shirt and tight jeans with a stained apron tied loosely over her clothes. Her hair was tucked into an old baseball cap they'd given her. It was that, or the dreaded hair net. She'd cut her long hair short right before leaving for school, thinking it would be one less thing to worry about without Nan to work her magic.

There was no way she looked appealing, and yet she got a steady stream of 'hey baby's' and even one 'aren't you a cutie.'

Kaylia was not impressed. She knew they were probably just bored and a little desperate. They were after one thing and one thing only. And they weren't getting it from her.

Nan always said that testosterone could do crazy things to a man.

Kaylia didn't really care to find out.

She sighed and doled out another scoop of mashed potatoes. It was monotonous to say the least. She risked a glance at the clock to see how much time had passed.
Not enough.
She finally noticed that the line had come to a standstill so she looked up.

There was a boy standing in front of her. He was handsome, with wavy brown hair and blue grey eyes. He was staring at her with a look of shock on his chiseled face. His
familiar
face. His familiar storm gray eyes.

Not just any eyes.

His eyes.

It was him. The boy from her dreams. The boy she'd been dreaming about for literally years was standing in front of her, looking as shocked as she felt.

"You're real."

His voice was husky and full of wonder. His lips curled into a smile and she gasped. This could not be happening.

THIS COULD NOT BE HAPPENING.

But it was happening and she had no idea what to do about it.

Kaylia's chest felt dry and tight as she struggled to get a deep breath. She felt like she was frozen. She blinked at him as he shook his head and started to say something to her.

But she didn't want to hear it.

Kaylia dropped her serving spoon into the mash potatoes and ran into the kitchen, out the service entrance and into the cool evening air.

Dylan

☼

She was real.

He stood there, holding onto his tray for dear life as time seemed to stop. It was like he was on Mars all of the sudden. In the blink of an eye everything he'd known, everything he'd assumed was reality had been proved wrong.

And he'd never been happier than anything in his life than having his illusions shattered.

Dear god, the beauitful girl from his dreams was
real.

Dylan's world tilted as he stared into the huge brown eyes he'd seen so often in his sleep. He hadn't just been dreaming after all. He'd been seeing a real girl somehow. She was real and she was here.

But that wasn't even the crazy part. The crazy part was the look in her eyes. He knew without a doubt that she'd recognized him too.

She'd known him just as surely as he'd known her.

He tried to open his mouth to get the words out - what words he wasn't just sure of yet - but the overwhelming feeling in his gut had been of completion. Shock yes, but a wonderful, miraculous feeling of having found something he'd lost.