Dedication and Thank you:
To my dear friend
Gipsy Keket
, thank you for the wonderful names you came up with and for your always being there for me, and; being a creative inspiration to me always. You are a great friend and inspiration. I love ya girl!
It was a Sunday morning and it had begun to rain when I heard these words: "You," he said, "are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain." Julian said as he quoted the book,
The Asylum For Wayward Victorian Girls
by Emilie Autumn.
I just looked at him not knowing what to say. How does he know anything about me we only just met; yet, he did seem to know me. That being the case he probably knew that I wanted to rip his clothes off and have my way with him right there. I just need to keep my cool and not let it show. How do I do that, I was never good at hiding myself from people; I wear my heart on my sleeve and everyone seems to know what I am feeling before I do.
"I'm sorry, I did not mean to analyze you. It is just a hazard of being a psych major." He laughed sweetly.
My breath caught and I smiled up at him. I shrugged and he held a hand out to me. I shook it and felt a chill run through my body. His skin was soft like he had known little work but I liked the way his hand felt in mine. "My name is," I hesitated because I hated my name and all the variations that went with it. "My name is Mas." He gave me a questioning look and I went on to explain. "My name is Thomas. I hate my name and all variations of it. I was also named after a man I despise."
"Ah, I understand." He said his voice soft and smooth. "It really is nice to meet you Mas." He smiled, it was bright and happy and I could not help but smile back at him. "Would you like to have lunch?"
What was I supposed to say, no and be rude? If I said yes I seemed eager and easy. What the hell was I supposed to do? "Sure I'll go." I smiled and he smiled back at me. Goddess help me I am easy.
"Great. How about The Chowder House down by the bay?"
I nodded my head afraid to speak to him, afraid he would know more about me in the few words I spoke than I even knew about myself. It was scary to have someone see into you like they were living your life. I shivered at the thought and we began walking towards the small intimate restaurant.
We were seated and I was looking out at the bay when his voice broke into my thoughts.
"Would you like some wine?"
"Sure, thank you."
"Does white work for you? Or would you like something else?"
"White is fine."