Im excited. Im terrified. Im back in my home town. Its my first day at Palamino Bay University. The next stepping stone to becoming a physicians assistant. I want to specialize in wound care. Thats the exciting part, continuing my education.
I haven been in this town for over six years since my mom and I moved. My friends probably think the worst had befallen me like death or being placed in a mental health facility. But the truth is Ive lived and worked on a ranch while attending high school and community college. All of this for my mothers and my mental health after the car accident that cost us, my father and twin brother. I miss them so much even though its been over six years.
The terrifying part is facing my boys. That is assuming they stayed in town. They are my broken boys that my mother wanted to blame for my depression, but it wasn them. It was a girl and her minions. A girl that chose to kick me while I was already at my lowest point. Not that any of that matters now. The strongest of steel is forged in fire, and Ive made use of that fire.
I walk into the first class, quickly finding a place to sit before the professor arrives.
”Well, well. Look who is back. Wait until Jase finds out, ” I hear a familiar behind me say.
I turn around to men from my past sitting behind me. Men that used to be sixteen-year-old boys the last time I saw them. They certainly aren boys now that muscles and tattoos have taken over their once slender frames.
”We thought something terrible happened to you, baby girl. Where did you go? ” The other man asks.
Im not certain if I should tell them. My broken boys wouldve blamed themselves for something for which they weren responsible. In the past they protected me, but they couldn have saved me from the monster that is depression.
I wonder if they are still my boys? A lot can change in six years.
”Not here, ” I say shaking my head noticing the Professor has arrived by is taking his time getting situated at his desk.
My eyes roam over their once-familiar faces and bodies.
Lachlan Hartley, who spoke first, is fair skinned with blonde hair and bright Caribbean blue eyes. A paint-stained t-shirt covers the wide expanse of his chest while colorful tattoos cover his arms and up his neck.
Weston Chancler is the polar opposite with olive skin, ebony hair, and chocolate eyes. The edge of a black and grey tattoo peeks out from underneath the v of his black long-sleeve shirt on his broad chest.
Weston notices where my eyes have and with a smirk, he whispers, ”You disappeared. Its for you anyway, baby girl. I have been missing you. ”
A blush scarlets my cheeks. He got a permanent memorial from me inked on his skin
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