•DESTINED•

•Chapter Five•

"I'm still safe mom," I say cheerfully.

"An 'hello' would do me the world of good, Violet," mom says seriously.

"Hello," I roll my eyes, knowing she won't see me.

"How's the farm?"

"Its..." I can't brag too much or my mom will feel left out, "it's nice."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," mom says but there's a pause on her side of the line.

"Is everything okay?" I ask.

"Yeah... I'm just missing you."

"I miss you too. You should see the pretty flowers I've collected. I can't wait to show you! I also made a drawing of the animals I've seen so far..." I let myself go, forgetting that my mom might feel left out.

"I can't wait to see them. Try and keep the root of the flowers in water. Maybe we can grow them here by us. You know, a little farm with a little city," my mom says, a bit of excitement edging her voice.

"I didn't pick the root with it," I say sadly, "I wasn't thinking. Sorry."

There's another pause.

"That's okay," mom says, "just remember to pick the root next time."

"I will," I move my phone away from my ear and check the time, "mom... I'm really sorry to leave so soon but I need to get back to the Manor. I'm in the gallery at the moment. Aunt Portia says I should be back by the Manor before six - safety purposes and all."

"Oh okay. Call me tomorrow?" Mom asks.

"Yeah sure. Love you," I smile into the phone hoping that since she could not see it, she can hear it.

"Love you too."

•••

"Come, let's go," aunt Portia says as soon as I enter the living room.

"Where are we going to?" I ask as I slide the pepper spray and my phone out my pocket.

"Our neighbors invited us to dinner with them. I think you'll get along with them quite well," aunt Portia says confidently.

"That was nice of them," I smile.

"Now come, they're very orderly people. We wouldn't want to show up late to something that we didn't even need be invited to in the first place."

I glance down at my outfit.

"You look fine," aunt Portia says, lacing her fingers through mine and rushing out the large double doors and locking them behind us.

•••

This Manor was much larger than aunt Portia's but equally as magnificent.

A middle-aged female and male were standing side by side, beaming down at us as we climbed the stairs to greet them.

"You're looking lovely, Portia!" The woman beams, pulling aunt Portia into a grizzly bear hug, "And this must be your niece!"

The woman as hazel eyes that seem to be twinkling against the last rays of sun.

"Yes, she is," aunt Portia smiles at me proudly, placing her hand on my upper arm.

"She's beautiful!" The woman beams, "She might be more beautiful than you."

The woman winks at me. I laugh.

The man shakes my hand. He does the same with aunt Portia. His eyes are kind. He's a man of few words.

"You look look ravishing as always, Portia," the man says, "but I'm afraid I'm going to agree with my wife when it comes to your niece's beauty."

"Oh, you people are horrid," aunt Portia teases, "remember that I'm the original. All of her stems from my sister's blood."

"Come, dinner will be ready in about ten minutes," the woman says.

I linger behind them beside aunt Portia, "What's their names?"

"Just call the woman Mrs. Smith and the man Mr. Smith unless they tell you to address them as something else," aunt Portia whispers.

I nod, taking in the information.

Then, there on the couch in what I assume is the living room is the handsome boy from the dam.

The woman saunters over to the boy, "This is my son, Evan. Why, Violet, you look like you two are about the same age."

The boy, Evan, looks up from his phone, his airpods flashing in blue and red. He gazes at his mom and pulls his one airpod out, "What's wrong?"

"We have guests, Evan," Mrs. Smith says, plastering a smile on her face to hide her irritation.

Evan turns his head to lay those beautiful green eyes on us.

Then he sees me. The corner of his mouth lifts.

My heart soars.

"Sorry," he says, averting his eyes and then taking the other airpod out his ear and switching his phone off, "Nice to meet you both. I have seen that girl already though."

My cheeks heat.

"Oh, how lovely. So I don't need to introduce the two of you?" Mrs. Smith asks, her smile genuine this time.

"Oh, you do," Evan says.

"Evan," Mrs. Smith sighs,"the 'girl' is Violet-"

"Like the flower?" Evan cuts in, sounding intrigued.

"I thought Violet was a colour," I say, frowning a little.

"It is. But there's also a flower. The African Violet. Otherwise knows as streptocarpus sect. Saintpaulia. They're quite beautiful," Evan says.

My heart skips a beat. His eyes linger on mine. My stomach dances with a different kind of butterfly.

Then, after what seemed like years of silence, Evan focuses those jewel-like eyes on aunt Portia.

"And you are?" He asks.

"I'm Portia," she sounds giddy, excited for some reason, "nice to meet you Evan."

He nods and gets to his feet. He goes to aunt Portia first and shakes her hand.

Then he comes to a stop in front of me. He's a whole head taller than me, his eyes rest lazily down on my own eyes.

Everyone is watching us. My mind clicks that it hasn't been merely as long as what I thought it was and that his hand is waiting to be shook.

I clear my throat and take it with confidence but his surprisingly smooth skin sends me flying.

I move my hand away but as I do, I realize how slowly his hand is moving away from mine.

Charming.

Maybe I'm just being delusional. Maybe I imagined it.

"Anyways," Mrs. Smith says, cutting through the awkward atmosphere, "shall we go eat?"