Forgetting Prince Charming.

CHAPTER 2

She could hear him walk towards her. She faced him, prepared to squeak out an awkward goodbye when something caught her eye. She dropped her jacket back on the chair as she stretched towards the middle shelf. Her actions, compelled by her subconscious, reached for the object. "Oh that again." His annoyance was no longer masked. She pretended not to be affected by it. 

"What do you mean again?" she asked as she ran her finger along the curve of the crescent. 

"You asked me about that last night. Ruined the mood although, considering what happened next that was probably a good thing." He had the nerve to wink at her. 

"You were in Sigma Alpha too?" He nodded. "Which year?" 

"2011. What a year. Feels like an eternity ago." She couldn't focus on his words, not when all she could hear was the dramatic thump thump of her heart. What were the chances? "We were a wild group. The parties we threw back then are still spoken about today. I actually think -" he moved past her and stretched to the top shelf. "Ah, here it is." She watched, scared as he showed her a picture frame. "This was taken before our last exam."

She was afraid to look but knew she should. Her eyes scanned the image. In the protection of a sturdy black frame was an image of a group of men, roughly twenty of them. She ran her eyes quickly through the men, surprisingly recognizing the man beside her first. He looked young, probably early twenties. He had thick midnight hair a striking contrast to his paper white globe he had now. There were less stressed lines on his face and thicker muscles on his arms but, that was where the differences ended. He hadn't changed much in ten years. "You haven't changed much." 

He was closer to her now, his arm against hers as they both stared at the image. "I have less hair."

She laughed. "Age is a dog, right?"

"Ha!" She looked up at his face, surprised to him already grinning down at her. She ducked her face quickly and looked back at the photo. The man each had their arms around the shoulders of the men next to them. As her gaze moved from the front row to the last row, so her body grew colder. Her mouth fell open and she pulled the frame closer. "This isn't possible. It can't be," she whispered.

"What do you mean?" Coincidences happened but never to her. This had to be a joke. There was no mistaking it though. There, at the very top on the right hand side, stood the man of both her dreams and nightmares. His dark hair was curlier than she'd ever seen and his eyes were more alive than she'd known possible. He was younger, less stressed but, it was him no doubt. "Ah, Eamon Mickelson. Sigma Alpha's legend." Though his words seemed full of praise, something in his eyes hinted at bad blood. 

"He's a legend?"

He nodded. "Comes from campus royalty and after finishing undergrad with us, he moved on to become a wealthy and popular doctor. Basically raised the social standing of our college and fraternity." 

"You don't like him much, do you?" 

He rolled his eyes and took the frame from her hands. "It's not that I don't like him it's just."

"What?" she asked. 

"Never mind." He glanced at his wrist and clicked his tongue. "We really need to leave." He reached down for her jacket and shoved it her hands before pulling his front door open. They said nothing more as they left. Emma followed quietly after him, her mind reeling with the new information.  Once they were outside the building he stopped and turned to her. "I called a cab for you, should be here any minute."

"Thanks." Transport hadn't even been on her mind once. Suppose the man before her wasn't that bad. The sun had risen about halfway, the automatic street lights now off. They stood side to side, cast in a gentle gold glow. Her confidence from the night before had long since vanished.