Hey! hope you enjoy this new story i'm posting, its quite different than my other one. Let me know what you think! The first couple of chapters are filled with little hints and details, so keep note of certain things. Then comes the downward spiral......
Hope you enjoy :)
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Does love at first sight exist?
Lucas Flynn would testify against it. He believed love was impossible to understand at merely one glance. He knew for a fact that when he saw Charlotte Lockwood for the first time, he had to do a double-take.
When he saw her, he knew little to nothing about her. He just knew the things he had eavesdropped from the other townspeople’s conversations. She was the daughter of Flint Lockwood, a renowned freelance lawyer, and Veronica Lockwood, a fitness model. The entire family appeared to be living the American dream, but it only seemed that way from the outside. Dark rumors shadowed the Lockwood name. There were always whispers about murder, betrayal, and loss, which made for juicy gossip in a small town. It was these stories shut the Lockwoods away, and isolated them further from regular society. Charlotte never showed her face in public, or even outside the manor.
In fact, Lucas would have never met her had he not foolishly accepted his best friend’s bet. Never one to back down from a dare, Lucas had climbed the gates and trespassed onto Lockwood Manor with nothing but a light pull-string bag strapped to his back. Inside the bag rested multiple cans of newly bought spray paint; Lucas intended on vandalizing the plot with graffiti. However, in hindsight, it was not the best idea to wrong the property of a lawyer, even for twenty bucks.
Lucas dropped his bag at the side of the gardening shed and looked around at the manor. He admired how beautifully it was attended to. The gardens stretched on for at least a good acre. They contained a wide variety of sweet-smelling flowers, from roses to Queen Anne’s lace, and everything in between. There was a large fountain in the center of it all, in which water cascaded down a wavy marble surface. Lucas felt a tinge of guilt for defilling such a pretty place and made a silent promise to at least vandalize tastefully. Well, maybe tasteful wasn't the correct term.
Lucas turned his back to the garden and took out the first can of paint. He shook it nervously, suddenly aware of his stupidity for accepting the dare. Why did he have to care so much what his friends thought of him? He had not even paused to consider the consequences. Too late for regrets now. After a quick check over the shoulder, Lucas began outlining the letters on the brick surface of the gardening shed:
What’s a lawyer’s favorite playground apparatus? The suings.
Lucas stopped to admire his neat handwriting as he prayed Mr. Lockwood had a sense of humor… Lawyers liked puns, right?
Suddenly, he heard some footsteps in the distance. He nearly dropped the can of royal blue as a wave of panic overcame him. Scared out of his mind, Lucas pressed his body against the shed wall, unaware of the wet paint until it was too late. He cursed silently and turned his attention to the source of the sound.
A girl was wandering the garden and luckily, she did not appear to see him. Lucas decided he desperately needed an escape plan. He looked down and tried to discreetly kick one of the spray cans back into the bag. Wait a minute, he thought… Lucas looked back up at the girl, who had to be Charlotte Lockwood herself. His jaw dropped into a small “o.” She was the girl everyone talked about but nobody talked to, and she was gorgeous! Her hair looked as if it came from the red-hot heart of hell itself, and cascaded in soft curls down her shoulders. She had ash colored eyes that could burn a soul and set it free in the same stare. It had to be love at second sight.
Lucas felt a mixture of shock, excitement, and nervousness pound through his veins as his heartbeat quickened. Was this encounter luck? Destiny? It did not matter… All that mattered was this bewildering pull towards a complete stranger, this girl he had never truly met, but felt an intense desire to know.
Lucas took a step forward, but his foot caught in the strap of his bag and he tumbled to the ground. The sound of his klutzy action caught Charlotte’s attention. Those eyes, Lucas thought. He stumbled to his feet and picked up his bag, tossing the paint carelessly inside as quickly as humanly possible. The full reality of the situation finally hit him; here he was, a vandal, wrecking this beautiful girl’s home for no good reason. He didn’t want to meet her like this! She would never talk to a criminal like him! He pulled his bag over one shoulder and sprinted in the direction of the gates.
Charlotte, seeing the ridiculous display of a teenager stumbling away with paint across his back, began to giggle uncontrollably. She watched him run towards the gate’s exit. Lucas thought her laugh sounded beautiful. He looked back to get another look at her, unable to keep the stupid grin off of his face. He ran into the gate full force.
When Lucas woke up, the face of a goddess smiled down on him.
“’Mornin’ Mr. Clown.” Charlotte whispered. She dabbed his forehead gently with a cold cloth. Lucas opened and closed his mouth, unable to properly string his words together. How hard had he run into the gate? He touched his hand to his head, and noted the trace of blood. Charlotte pressed the wet cloth against his forehead once more.
“Lucas,” He corrected her, feeling incredibly disoriented and dizzy. He looked up at Charlotte, suddenly aware he was talking to the girl of his dreams.
“Or Luke!” He added with a slight stutter, “You know... if you’re into nicknames… and stuff…”Charlotte bit her lip and tried to keep herself from laughing more at the boy. Her eyes shone with amusement. Lucas managed a half-smile. Somehow this girl was not mad at him, even after what he had done.
“I liked your joke, Lucas,” Charlotte continued. She paused to think for a second before opening her mouth again, “But trespassers and vandals should be pun-ished.”
Lucas’ head tipped back, as he shook with disbelief. She even had a sense of humor! Was this girl for real? He looked up into her eyes, still sparkling with joy. She was definitely there and definitely smiling. Lucas couldn’t believe it.
“Marry me?” He asked, his speech slurred slightly. Charlotte rolled her eyes and smirked playfully.
“Sorry hotshot, but I don’t see a ring.” She stood up and dusted off her jeans. Then, with a michievious look, she dropped the wet rag over Lucas’s face. He pulled it off the bridge of his nose and flashed a boyish smile.
“Will a number do?” Lucas blurted. Immediately, he felt embarrassed that he had acted so eager. What had happened to playing it cool? This wasn’t the first girl he had talked to… He didn’t understand how this stranger was ruining him. He couldn’t speak or think straight, he could hardly breathe.
Charlotte blinked, for she had not expected his question. Lucas looked down and shifted uncomfortably. How stupid of him… a girl like her? Suddenly, he felt something wet press onto his arm. He jumped at the touch.
“Stay still, you just smeared the seven…” Charlotte mumbled. Lucas swallowed and tried to keep his mouth closed as Charlotte’s phone number materialized on his skin. She wrote her name underneath it with green sharpie. Lucas looked up at her, and watched her face as she wrote the letters. She paused to smile at him, and he looked back down with a new rush of embarrassment. She shouldn’t have caught him staring…
“There… now you better leave before anyone sees you. I’ll open the gate so you don’t hurt yourself anymore, okay?”
Lucas nodded and pushed himself to his feet again. He managed to stumble off of the property in a light daze. Everything had happened so quickly, his head was reeling. Charlotte waved at him as the gates closed again. Lucas waved back at her and walked off. He looked down at the numbers on his arm, determined to memorize them before he sweat them off.
Charlotte sighed and tucked a single curl behind her ear, trying not to catch it on a silver hoop earring. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the old bark of a nearby tree. Lucas had long disappeared from her range of vision, but she continued to stare in the direction he had left. A million regrets swirled in her head. Perhaps it was not the best idea to let a boy get away with vandalism, to give that trespasser her number, or to have even ventured outside in the first place. Her father was not going to be happy with her if he found out. However, even with all of her doubts, she didn’t truly regret her decision to let Lucas off of the hook.
Was it selfish of her to love the way the boy looked at her? What was it about that stupid lopsided smile, other than the fact that it had been directed at her? She wasn’t sure if she cared at all for the boy, but she adored they way he had made her feel. Superior. Important. Beautiful?
She had never felt that way before, and now that she had gotten a taste of it, she had no intention of giving that up just yet. She felt a pain of guilt as she wondered if she was only using him for her own self-esteem. Was it classified as “using” if she cared for him? Did she care for him?
“Charlotte, what the hell? Get back inside, right this instant!” Charlotte spun around and met her father face to face. The skin underneath his eyes was dark with weariness. He looked exhausted both physically and mentally. Charlotte knew there was no use protesting his command in his current state.
“Yes, Daddy.” She whispered. She silently brushed by her father and started in the direction of the back deck.
“I’ve warned you about the people here in this wretched town.” His eyes followed Charlotte with a dark gleam. Charlotte swallowed, but did not glance back to see her father’s expression.
“I know, Dad.”
“I cannot prosecute them all, but each individual is a criminal in their own way; either, to themselves, to others, or to this society.” Mr. Lockwood continued.
“I know.” Charlotte’s voice heightened with a trace of annoyance. Her pace quickened as she pushed to evade further lecturing. Mr. Lockwood crossed his arms protectively.
“You don’t deserve to be the victim again, my dear.” His tone was softer as he followed his flighty daughter into the Manor. His word choice caught Charlotte’s attention. She stopped cold, wincing at the onslaught of a memory; old fears were beginning to surface again. The door slammed shut behind her and was locked twice. Charlotte watched her father retreat upstairs, still locked into place with shock.
It was this kind of fear that imprisoned her in Lockwood Manor. A kind of fear she had been forced to accept ever since the incident occured