Kent

Four years before the real action in the book begins…

Fuck!

Another night of feeling insignificant. I'd replaced the glasses with contacts, had my braces removed, and even re—placed the nerdy clothes with the standard American young adult uniform to fit in at the university. That was over two years ago, and it really felt like a complete waste of time. It didn't matter what I did, I was treated like the nerd back then and even more so now.

"How the hell do you do it, man? I mean, you have girls drooling at your feet. Me? They don't even look at me twice."

I slumped down on my bed, thinking about going to another party with Jeff, my roommate who's slowly but surely turning into one of my best friends. Rather my only friend. No one looks at me on campus unless he's by my side and if not, the only thing they ask is, "Hey man. Where's Jeff at?"

"Don't be so fucking hard on yourself," he gave me a reassuring tap on the shoulder. The guy had everything going for him, from his Italian olive skin to his green eyes and pecs that made Arnold Schwarzenegger look like a worm compared to him. He was hot and if I was that way inclined, even I would fucking want to hook up with him. But, I wasn't. I was just the chump that shared a dorm with him and watched all the girls wish they were me. They wanted to share a room with him, but not for one night, every single night!

He had a way of making everyone feel good. He was the kind of guy that broke a girl's heart and the next day; she'd apologize for being sad in front of him. The type of guy that the professor's apologized if they didn't give him a good grade. The kind that walked into a bar and wouldn't be short of someone to buy him a drink.

He was the football captain and had the brains to go with the looks. Plus, he came from money. Shit, a bit like me, but none of that shit happens when I walk anywhere. I came to the state university thinking that once I got rid of my glasses, put in contacts, and dressed like a man instead of a boy that was obsessed with Star Trek, that I'd finally find the girls climbing all over me. I thought that university would be better than high school. Well, in a way, it is. Back then, everyone just laughed at me — son of a billionaire and a hopeless nerd.

Here everyone ignores me, which is better than being laughed at, but I was still a virgin. Something that was playing heavily on my mind. I came here thinking things would change. My sister, Caroline, helped me shop for clothes before I came here. We were close before I started school, but now we hardly spoke. It was as if we had less in common as we got older, even though we're only a couple of years apart.

"You going to sit there all night and act like a sissy? What you need are bigger shoes, Kent."

I forgot that he was in the room for a second because my mind was drifting about the difference between university and high school and thinking about the plus side and realizing that apart from going home at night, there wasn't many positives.

"Shoes. Why the hell would I need bigger shoes when mine fit perfectly?"

That was another negative point against being at the university. No one talked like I did. Students said things like, 'My feet's broke.'

They were making English grammar a thing of the past, as they spoke in their own stilted, misdirected language which made no sense to someone like me. Someone who liked to be perfect in everything that he did but failed miserably when it came to the opposite sex.

His eyes glowed that mischievous look that I'd seen a couple of times. Like when he was caught red—handed in bed with his new girlfriend and hadn't told his old girlfriend that it was over. The one that I was trying to stop from coming in the room and catching him red handed. Somehow, over the next few days, he managed to have his old girlfriend begging him to take her back and his new one, asking for him not to go.

How did he do it?

What made the opposite sex think of him as some sort of God, I put it down to his performance in the bedroom. All I knew was that I fucking envied him on that day.

He put his hands on my shoulder as I stood up and faced me directly, "Remember; I told you that the only reason I get the ladies…"

I stopped him from finishing what he was about to say, something that he'd said so many times that it didn't sound like music to my ears, but a mosquito buzzing and creating noise.

"The bigger the size, the bigger the cock. But the thing is girls don't believe in that shit," I laughed as my head looked down at his shoes, which were fucking gigantic.

He shook his head and said, "Put them on," he handed me a pair of his sneakers which magically appeared in his hands as he removed them from my shoulders.

Was he a fucking magician too?

"Put a sock in them or something and when it works, you can thank me later."

I took one look at his sneakers and wondered if he was crazy, a magician or a fortune teller? I shook my head and he asked, "What you got to lose?"

I didn't need to think about his question twice. He was right. I put a sock in each sneaker and slid them on. It felt a bit uncomfortable at first, but then I started walking as Jeff said, "The walk of a man on a mission."

No more did I feel that this was stupid. It felt like the start of a new beginning. No more, was I frowning, but I had a big fucking smile on my face as I thought about Magician Jeff's magic words.

Emma

Present Day…

I was standing up and looking in the mirror and won—dering if living in New York City had utterly changed me? I didn't feel like the same farm girl that had left Minnesota six months ago. But, whenever I tried to get a new job, someone always asked me which part of the country I came from?

"Country girl, right?" The men would ask with a preda—tory grin, as if they smelled fresh meat they wanted to devour.

"You're not from this neck of the woods, are you?" The women would ask with a slight sneer to their lip as they stared at me like a bug they'd found in their latte.

Out of town never seemed to be a good enough answer. It was as if they knew I was from a more totally different re—gion than them and that somehow equated to me being beneath them.

Gail had left Minnesota to come to New York with an associate's business degree. She'd finished college with student loan debt because her parents didn't have enough money to send her to college let alone to a university, as she'd wanted to do. James Associates was offering her the chance to work for one year as a junior associate, and then they would financially support her while she went after a bachelor's de—gree in business.

It was the chance of a lifetime. It was hard enough on me when she left for college, it was even harder on me when she told me she was going to New York City. She was my best friend, even though it was clear that she wouldn't end up like me—married to her childhood sweetheart. But there was one problem, as we said our goodbye's that night. I confessed to her that I wasn't happy. Miserable in fact and it had everything to do with spending my life with Abe.

She said that I should come and see New York, and well, that was six months ago. Six long months ago. Every time, I thought about going back home, I cried, and the longer I stayed on her sofa with her roommate, Claire who wanted me out, I cried.

I'd spent the last few weeks crying like I was grieving or something. I guess I was in a way. I was not losing someone but just feeling helpless and not in control of my life which isn't a great feeling. I could also see the secret dreams I had slipping away from me. For now, I wanted to wait tables, scrub floors, serve coffee. Jobs that didn't require a degree and not necessarily experience based on them being things we did eve—ry day.