Miss Matched // Thomas Sangster Fanfiction

Chapter One - Has to be Gandy

You've given a lot of thought to the way things work out over the past few years. Mostly - is there really a grand, master plan, or is it all up to the whim of every simple-minded imbecile on this great, blue planet? Because some things just seem too bizarre to be accidents. There are days that you know that the universe or some higher power is laughing as you make plans, and pulling the strings behind the curtain.

As you drive home from your summer job as a package handler for DHL, you drum your fingers on the steering wheel and think that someone is probably laughing at you right now. Your Grandma will be waiting for you at home, waiting to rip you a new butthole because you're coming home from work late again.

The sunset is red and pink on the Arizona horizon. Say what you will about the southwest - but the sunsets out here are the most gorgeous anyone could ever see. Pulling into the driveway, you notice the light in your grandparents dining room is still on. Maybe they haven't started Sunday dinner yet? You listen carefully, walking up the porch steps and trying to hear if there is any talking from the dining room windows. When you don't hear a sound, you cautiously open the front door and slip in quietly, thinking that your Grandma hasn't noticed the time.

However, when you open the door, there's your Grandma with a slightly stern look on her face, dressed for dinner.

"Hey, Grandma." You sigh, not bothering to be quiet anymore.

"Couldn't you have called to tell us you would be late for dinner?"

You kick your shoes off, and drop your keys into the designated key basket, "You want me to drive and talk on the phone?"

She pauses, looking concerned for a moment before she frowns again, "Well, obviously not."

Stepping forward, you give her a half hug and say, "I'm sorry I didn't let you know I would be late. I didn't mean to worry you."

This diffuses the situation entirely. You know your Grandma well enough by now to understand that she really means well. She's also a sucker for a sincere apology.

She brushes back your blonde hair with her fingers, and a smile stretches across her face, making its way to her warm, brown eyes. Gently, she says, "Oh, it's all right, I suppose. You could use the pocket money this year, after all and those minutes add up."

"That is true." You say, looking around the house. Your grandparents' home is mostly an open floor plan, so you can peer around to see the dining table has food laid across it, but no one is sitting at it. "Where's everyone else?"

"Your sisters are also running late and your grandpa is sitting out in the backyard."

Chuckling, you shake your head, "Typical."

"You ought to go upstairs and shower quickly before everyone arrives. You smell sweaty." Grandma says, with a hint of disapproval in her voice.

"All right." You decide not to argue, heading towards the stairs, "Is my dog in my room?"

"I haven't seen him in a while, so I would guess that Sirius is in your bedroom."

You're about halfway up the stairs when your Grandma stops you again, "Oh, Fleur! Someone called you while you were at work today."

You turn around excitedly, eyes lighting up, "Was it Erica?"

"No, it wasn't your school friend," Grandma frowns. "She said her name was Sasha."

Now it's your turn to frown, "I don't know anyone named Sasha."

Mentally, you run through everyone from school. There aren't any teachers named Sasha - or even really sounds similar to Sasha. No school mates either. Sasha isn't exactly a name you hear everyday, so you'd think you would remember meeting someone named Sasha. The name Sasha sounds like a stripper or a show girl's name anyway, doesn't it?