Above the Skyline

I gripped the handles on my duffel bag tightly, walking through the airport with confidence even though I had none. I wasn't even sure what I was doing here, and as an army boy, that was probably the most disconcerting thing about my trip.

Except that I'd come at the beckon of someone I hadn't seen in ten or eleven years, and why? I had no clue. Maybe it was because she was hot now and maybe I had a bit of an attachment issue when it came to my childhood. I rubbed my face with my free hand and looked around for her, unsure of what I was really looking for.

My eyes caught on a board that had my name written in messy - but neat? - hand-writing, and I looked up to find her smiling with sultry red lips and dark red hair tossed over one shoulder. Her light blue eyes pierced my dark ones, smile fading for a second before coming back full force. I felt blinded.

I walked up to her hesitantly and she pressed her heart shaped lips to my cheek. "Hi, Niall," she said, pulling away. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

I nodded, leading the way to baggage claim. She laced her arm in mine, her smile never faltering as before. As we waited, I tried to start a simple conversation. God, I'd always been bad at that.

"You've really grown, Jen," I said, eyes flicking over her body. She wasn't looking, but she smiled knowingly.

"So a lot of people have said," she replied, smiling. For a second it faltered, then faded completely. "How's my dad?" she asked, worry in her eyes.

"He's doing pretty well," I said, smoothing my thumb over the skin on the back of her hand. Her eyes glossed over and faded out and I chewed on my lip as my bag came into view. I grabbed it and turned to her, and she seemed perfectly normal.

"The car is just outside. Come on." She smiled again and my eyes lingered on those bright red lips, but she turned away as if to say, Not a chance, and started out of the airport. I followed, eyes hovering over her figure.

How does a girl so simple turn out this beautiful?

Must be from her mother.

Pamela Isley. She was a no-approach topic when it came to Jen. That had been something made clear from the moment I met her. But I couldn't help but think about Pamela and what my dad had said that really, really sad day. The last time I'd ever talk to my father.

I had to wonder why Pamela took Jen away from her father. I mean, Mr. Mason was a good guy. He wasn't rich but he held his own and was able to take care of Jen. I still think he should have fought for custody.

I threw my bags into the back of Jen's car, glaring at the duffel bag I'd been carrying. I'd sworn to my dad that I'd carry it everywhere, but that didn't mean I wanted to.

"You'll be staying at my house for the time being," Jen said. "Just for your stay. If you mean to stay longer, you'll have to find somewhere else to go."

I nodded and got into the passenger seat of her car as she climbed into the drivers' seat and revved the rather expensive car. I had to wonder how she could afford it.

Dad always told me to be suspicious of everyone, but I'd grown up with Jen. I knew I could trust her.

There had to be someone I could be close to, living like this.

Later, I'd find out it wasn't her.