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Chapter One
Anne had always thought of herself as the golden child. Among four siblings, she was the one who got straight A’s through high school, and halfway through college she was still maintaining that 4.0. She volunteered at both the local hospital, and the animal sanctuary, while on two sports teams. Anne was fit, tall and skinny with a good form. Dancers in the school complained that she wasted herself on sports, rather than throwing herself into dance.
Anne didn’t mind that much; dance wasn’t her calling. In fact, she didn’t have a calling that she was incredibly familiar with. All she knew was that she wanted to be perfect at everything she did. Not to inflate her own ego, but she was.
It was a chilly November day when her entire world was turned upside down.
Anne had ducked into the nearest building to escape the gathering snowstorm, and had found that thirty other people had decided to do the same thing. An old-timey song was playing, something that sounded from the fifties era. Anne casually bounced along as she pulled out her phone, scrolling through her messages. She let her mother and father know that she would be home late, and that they shouldn’t worry about keeping dinner out for her. She could reheat it when she got home.
All had seemed peaceful until a man smelling like a disgusting mix of fresh and stale cigarette smoke walked into the building. Those who had been standing near him parted like the Red Sea, and he smirked at the wave of people seeking to escape him.
Anne curled her nose and turned a stare to the man, looking him up and down. He fit the stereotype, and she felt as though she had seen him around town earlier that day. He was tall and lanky, with badly-dyed black hair that he swept back, effortlessly flawed yet still perfected. His leather jacket was loose on his body, though hugged him well. He wore ripped black jeans, and a studded belt.
All along his hands, tattoos of various things that Anne could easily imagine trailing all the way up his arms and across his chest. The man walked over to Anne, not particularly, but simply because that was where he wanted to be right then. Anne tried not to mind, really, but eventually, the smell became too much for her too stand.
“Don’t you know those things will kill you?” she asked, looking the man up and down.
Other people turned to Anne with wide eyes. They were amazed that she had dared to question such a man. In a town like theirs, there were suspicions and stereotypes were more widespread than anything else. No one wanted to question a man that looked as though he could break someone’s spine as easily as he could snap a toothpick. Anne didn’t feel a twinge of fear, though. She wouldn’t allow herself to be afraid of some man that thought that he could scare people just with the way he looked.
“Isn’t it polite to ask someone’s name before you judge their life decisions?” the man asked.
He was a foot taller than Anne, and he stared down at her with menacing green eyes. She refused to budge, staring back up at him and holding her ground. A cold well of terror was growing in her stomach, threatening to overflow, but she wouldn’t let it happen.
“I don’t think your name matters, when you’re stinking up this whole place,” Anne said. “I think we all would appreciate it if you stepped back outside.”
“It’s snowing,” the man replied.
“So what?” Anne replied.
“Why is it fair for me to have to wait outside where it’s freezing while the rest of you get to stand in here where it’s warm? Just because of the way I look? Because I smoke?” his voice wasn’t changing in volume. Rather, his anger was the controlled kind, which overpowered someone simply with a cool fear, rather than burning hot embers of yelling and screaming.
“I’ll wait outside with you,” Anne said. If it would pacify the man, she would say anything to calm him down. “As long as it gets you away from everyone else.”
He seemed taken aback, and waited for Anne to go outside before following her. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed as they entered the cold again. It wasn’t as though he was incredibly cold, but he didn’t want to stand and wait around for a storm to get simply worse and worse.
“My name is Anne Burbank, by the way,” she said as soon as they were outside. She relished in the breath of fresh air she was given, and glanced at the man out of the corners of her eyes. He was young, probably around her age. She wouldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t handsome, but his personality was enough to threaten to drive her away. It was enough to drive anybody away who had any sort of sense.
“Quincy,” he replied. He leaned against the stone entrance of the building, glancing at Anne. He didn’t know what to think about her. He had never had someone be so bossy and forward with him, especially not coming from a girl who seemed so incredibly mousy.
“You got a last name?” Anne asked. She wasn’t normally rude, but the brusque way that Quincy was treating her had set her on edge.
“Not one that you need to know,” Quincy replied. He pushed his fingers through his dyed hair, pushing it out of his face and leaning his head back. “Why does it matter so much to you, anyways?” he asked. He glanced at Anne out of the corners of his eyes, a little frown playing on his lips.
“In a place like this, everyone knows everyone,” she said. “And none of us know you.”
“I don’t see why that’s a reason to kick me out of a store,” Quincy said. “I thought it was just a stereotype that all small-town people were rude pricks,” he quipped with a grin.
Anne was about to snap, but when she turned and caught Quincy’s grin, she felt all of her anger dissipate at once. It was as though someone had blown out a candle, leaving her with nothing but a trace of what had once been anger. He looked so charming, she didn’t doubt that with a bit of cleaning up, he could be the most attractive person she had ever met.
“I thought all tough guys weren’t supposed to smile?” she asked.
Quincy seemed to have realized exactly what he was doing when Anne said the words, and he wiped the smile off his face posthaste. “I wasn’t smiling at you or anything,” he said. His defense was weak, and Anne rolled her eyes playfully.
“Couldn’t think of anything better?” she teased. “That was weak, and you know it.”
“So what do you do with yourself, aside from kick strangers out of buildings that you don’t even own, that is?” he asked. He looked Anne up and down, turning so he could properly look at her when they were speaking.
“I’m a college student at the local university,” she said. “I live with my parents and I work at the library.”
