GWENN ALWAYS KNEW WHAT to do. Academically, she found the best strategies to study for her school subjects and aim for the highest grade. She knew how to comfort her friends and family, always saying the right words. She was the person everyone sought to solve their problems. Calm and collected, she found the right course of action to follow.
Except she couldn't fathom what to do as she stood at the crossroads fluttering in brown napkins filled with Ronan King's phone number.
She laid down flat on her bed over her white duvet, hand holding the slip of napkin high. Ronan's number mocked her from their place. She had marked the number on her phone, thumb hovering over the call button, but she could never go through with it.
A groan escaped her lips, and she saved the napkin inside the small cabinet of her nightstand. Her eyes shut, relishing the quiet of the morning right before her phone alarm blared. She rose from the bed, allowing the warm California sun filtering through her window to bathe her from head to toe as she stretched. The white walls turned a bright yellow, reflecting sun rays and transforming the rest of the room into a golden heaven.
Her shoulders eased down, a smile covering her features as she made way into her bathroom to get ready. Lockfell U awaited.
She rushed through her motions—showering, styling her hair, covering her lashes in mascara, and slathering her lips in lip balm—to look presentable enough for the day. Stepping back into her room, she cracked open her closet, looking for her clothes for the day. Instead of finding her usual pair of jeans and a shirt, the unopened duffle bag fell from the center rack, pooling at her feet. Her breath caught in her throat.
Bending down, Gwenn reached for the zipper with her hands shaking. The sound of the zipper opening up echoed in the stillness. Once the bag was open, she spilled all the jeans out over her floors, urgency speeding up her actions. She didn't stop until the mustard-colored border peeked from in between denim. She grasped onto its corner and pulled it out, heaving a sigh at the sight of the embroidered sunflower.
Her baby blanket.
She held it close to her face and sniffed its slight musty scent. It transported her back to the attic on moving day, finding the buried chest and learning about the only thing connecting her to her biological mother.
Gwenn closed her eyes, the image of her mother telling her how unimportant her curiosity was flashing in her mind. She knew how fortunate she was to have them as parents. She loved them for the life they provided for her, guiding her through the right path. But she wondered too much. It wasn't about wanting to have her biological mother in her life, it was about understanding why she was who she was.
Why were her bottom lips plump while her top lip disappeared when she smiled? Why were her eyes big and brown? Why did she have that one eyelash that grew way too straight in the middle of her lash line? Why was her hair a golden blond? Why was she so short?
The questions were endless. Every time she looked in the mirror, the littlest feature jumped out at her, begging to know how it came to be.
And she could find out all the answers to her questions. Just one phone call away.
She dismissed the idea. She would not be calling Ronan King, her boss's son, to find her biological mother. That tattooed, trouble-reeking man could find somebody else's mother.
Gwenn Davidson would not need him at all.
The screen loaded with her newest search. She tapped her foot in anticipation as she waited outside of her classroom for the abnormal psychology professor with a few of her peers. Her phone shone the approximate cost of a DNA test—a whopping six-hundred dollars. Her eyes almost fell out of their sockets.
After researching between classes, she found that the easiest way to find her biological mother would be to get a DNA test done. It could give her a trail to follow, a thread that could lead to her end goal.
But that price threatened to grab her in a chokehold.
Not like she had a problem with money per se, but six-hundred dollars made any normal person think twice.
Her abnormal psychology professor glided through, hand over her giant purse as she greeted everyone with a nod. Gwenn smiled shyly, locking her phone as her heart sank deeper into her chest.
It would take forever to find her biological mother.
She turned to enter the classroom, white sneakers skidding across shiny tiles. A mob of students piled up by the door, following their professor like a bee with their queen.
"I knew you were familiar."
Gwenn froze, eyes widening at the smooth voice traveling through the air and into her ears. Her fingers shook as she grabbed onto the corners of her cream cardigan, hoping to hide her nerves with the action. Uneasiness pooling at the bottom of her stomach, she decided to turn around, and there he was.
Ronan King.
"Gwenn, right?" He pointed an inked finger down at her.
She nodded, letting his icy gaze chill her down to the bone. Her throat closed up, so she was unable to say anything.
He stood there clothed in black. Instead of a muscle tee, a hoodie covered the rest of his tattoos paired with matching black sweats and sneakers. The dark fluff of hair on his head fell over his eyes, contrasting with the light color of his irises.
"It makes sense, you know?" Ronan walked closer to her, catching her off guard. "I was watching you clean at Mom's, and everything was put perfectly in place. There wasn't even a speck of dust left. Of course you were the girl in psych with the million colored pens and neat notes and perfect grades."
A bubble popped inside her, letting a chuckle slip through. "I like to be organized."
That dimple appeared on his cheek. "I can see."
Arthur flashed through her mind, momentarily dazing her with the brown napkin. Ronan winked at her before walking around her in direction of their next class. Gwenn shut her eyes, tightening her fists to the point where her nails stabbed at the skin of her palms.
"Ronan," she called out before she could find all the angles to her plan. He turned at her voice, eyebrows raised. The last student before them entered the classroom, and the door clicked shut. She knew they had about ten minutes to spare before Professor Franklin began her lesson on schizophrenia. "I heard you might be able to help me with something."
Understanding flickered over his face. His jaw set, chin high as he beckoned her forward with his eyes.
"I want to find my biological mother," Gwenn told him. With the hall emptied of students, only the two of them brought a speckle of life.
Ronan cast his gaze downwards. "You're adopted?"
She didn't know why it came as a shock. Many people were.
Burying down her curiosity over his reaction, she only nodded. "Can you help me?"
A second of pure silence fell between them. Gwenn heard her classmates' muffled chatting, and relaxed in knowing she still had time.
Time to negotiate.
"How much do you know about your biological mother?" Ronan asked, slicing the quiet in half.
She pursed her lips. "Nothing."
Ronan studied her, crossing his arms over his chest. She fumbled with her fingers, her mind going a thousand miles per hour at the thought of losing her only chance of finding answers.
"Please, isn't there a way to try?" Gwenn asked. "What's your price?"
He narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to the side as he watched her. Under his stare, she squared her shoulders, almost as if ready to fight if needed. It was all an act, but she knew she could fake her way through.
"A job like this may take more than two grand, easy," he said, jutting his chin out. "You willing to drop that kind of money?"
She took in a sharp breath. Her shoulders sagged and she spied Professor Franklin plugging in the projector on the first row. A few minutes remained before class started.
"You know what, never mind. This was pointless," Gwenn said, and walked past him in direction of the classroom.
Hand hovering over the metal doorknob, Ronan grabbed onto her wrist to stop her. "Wait," he said, slowly pulling her to him. "What if I propose a deal?"
Gwenn moved away as a small group of classmates reached for the door. Her heart hammered, and she twisted her face up at Ronan. "I'm listening."
"I'll help you find your mother," he stopped to take a breath, "if you help me pass the class."
She blinked, pointing back to the classroom. "Pass...abnormal psych?"
"This is my second time taking it, and I need it to graduate. I already flunked my other options before you even mention it." Gwenn pressed her lips into a thin line, swallowing down her next words. "And you're Ms. Perfect GPA, and I don't need to look at your transcript to confirm that. You can tutor me. So...help me pass abnormal psych, and I'll help you find your mother."
The deal echoed in her ears, creating a cacophony inside her mind. Her chest chilled, spreading its frost down to the very tips of her toes. She stared straight into his eyes.
"I'll think about it."