Underneath It All Read online

  Underneath It All

  By Ysa Arcangel

  Underneath It All

  Copyright © 2016 by Ysa Arcangel.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: June 2016

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-672-5

  ISBN-10: 1-68058-672-6

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  For David Gandy,

  My visual muse for Reeve Gates.

  The only other man as hot as my husband.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter I

  Chapter II

  Chapter III

  Chapter IV

  Chapter V

  Chapter VI

  Chapter VII

  Chapter VIII

  Chapter IX

  Chapter X

  Chapter XI

  Chapter XII

  Chapter XIII

  Chapter XIV

  Chapter XV

  Chapter XVI

  Chapter XVII

  Chapter XVIII

  Chapter XIX

  Chapter XX

  Chapter XXI

  Chapter XXII

  Chapter XXIII

  Chapter XXIV

  Chapter XXV

  Chapter XXVI

  Chapter XXVII

  Chapter XXVIII

  Chapter XXIX

  Chapter XXX

  Chapter XXXI

  Chapter XXXII

  Chapter XXXIII

  Chapter XXXIV

  Chapter XXXV

  Chapter XXXVI

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  Chapter I

  Fate

  Fate…this seemed like a sick joke from fate.

  Everything seemed alive and happy. I actually thought the sky would be mourning on the day of Dean O’Neal’s memorial service.

  The sun was shining too brightly for my liking. It was neither too cold nor too warm, yet it still felt strange. The past few days had been overcast with drizzles of rain, so seeing the sun was really weird. The unpredictable weather in Boston was both a blessing and a curse, because we get so much variety but we never knew when it’s going to rain, even if it’s beautiful and sunny.

  Dean O’Neal’s death was a result of a low-grade fraternity feud that escalated into bloody mayhem.

  Knowing one of our best mentors met his untimely death dampened all our hopes of becoming the best versions of ourselves. He made a huge impact on all those who looked up to him, including me. Almost the entire population of Gates faculty, students, and acquaintances went to his memorial to pay their respects.

  Nobody was seen with dry eyes after his only daughter delivered a tear-jerking eulogy for her beloved father.

  My hand shook as I placed a lone lily on my former dean’s tomb while I held back sobs of gratitude. “Thank you, Dean O’Neal, for everything,” I whispered.

  The ceremony was brief, in accordance with his daughter’s wishes. I wasn’t comfortable at the memorial service or gravesite, either. Simply dealing with Dean O’Neal’s death was demanding enough, much more than if it were my mom. The thought gave me chills.

  These past few months I watched her waste away, losing the vitality and independence that had always been so strong in her. It had been agonizing. Her arms, which had always held me so lovingly, had been reduced to barely-covered bones.

  I felt Tats nudge me with her elbow.

  “Gats?”

  “What?”

  “80 degrees southwest.”

  “What?” I asked again. My brows twitched, wondering what she was talking about, though I knew every time she used coordinates she either saw someone swoon-worthy or an enemy of our pack.

  “I said 80 degrees southwest,” she repeated, her eyes bulging.

  I turned to look at the spot and saw who she was referring to.

  Standing there was a man who looked familiar, but I’d never seen him before. I continued to stare at him, fixating on every detail. Hardcore exterior with sexy attributes, a kind of lumberjack appeal with scruffy facial hair, and boy did it work. His lips were tinged pink, as though he often licked them or bit them, which made me think of doing just those things to him. What am I thinking?

  The guy jerked up looking over at me. His face twitched slightly in surprise, but showed little reaction beyond that. He eyed me up and down before smirking. And there it was, a flutter in my gut I hadn’t felt in a really long time.

  I was dazed, the world seemed to shift or sway, my breath hitched, and my pulse quickened. Sure enough, Tats’ boy radar was right on point.

  I felt my cheeks burning.

  The sun was still shining when the funeral ended, but I was completely unaware. It took someone snapping their fingers in front of my face to draw my attention back from the abyss to the conversation around me.

  “Gats?” Tats called. She gently shook my shoulder.

  “Uh, Gats. We’re kind of waiting for you here,” Raven said.

  “Huh?” I asked not even sure what exactly she said.

  “Gah, you zoned out there for a second,” Tats stated.

  “Are you okay? I called out to you like three times,” said Apple.

  “Did I zone out? Oh, right. Let’s go.” I shrugged and turned my head again, requiring a very deliberate motion. It seemed almost unnatural to watch a stranger making his way to his car.

  The strong wind blew, making my handkerchief fly in his direction.

  I dared not walk where my handkerchief flew, for fear I would come face to face with a very handsome species with irresistible features.

  The four of us went straight to Moonbucks, our favorite hangout spot.

  The tiny bell tinkled as we walked into the coffee shop. The warm atmosphere welcomed me quickly. The scent of coffee went into my nostrils and I inhaled it deeply. I let out a contented sigh, finally feeling some actual comfort after a depressing day.

  I went up to the counter, greeting the barista. He looked up from one of the machines, a smile stretching across his face upon seeing me. “Hi. What can I get you?”

  “One mochaccino with extra whipped cream, please.”

  He took our orders, grabbed the cups, and got to work as we went over to a couch and sat down. A few minutes later, the waiter brought our drinks to us and we thanked him.

  “OMG that guy at the funeral was so hawt!” squealed Tats.

  “Actually, I’d say he was quite handsome,” I remarked.

  “Gats, where did you come from? Middle Earth?” asked Apple, my beautiful, redheaded friend who is taking the Bitchology Major in Sarcasm, but I loved her. She always had my back.

  “No. I just prefer not to objectify people,” I retorted.

  “Ugh, slip into the century! No one says handsome anymore,” added Raven, my punk-gothic-boyish-rockstar-Pink-inspired looking friend.

  I rolled my eyes at them. “Okay, how’s this, oh my gosh, he is soooooo hot!” I squealed with a gi
rlish tone and vehemently shook my head afterwards.

  “Perfect!” they complimented.

  “Who do you think that brooding, mysterious, super sexy-looking, funeral crasher, who I think would look great with his suit off, is?” Tats asked. My Hispanic, absolutely amazing, funny, sweet, and down-to-earth best friend had a built-in radar for hotties.

  “Really, Tats? You have no taste.” I shook my head and sipped on my coffee that was finally cool enough to drink. I half-listened to my friends while my eyes watched those around me. I didn’t see him, though. I wasn’t looking for him, or anything, anyway.

  ***

  I went home that night to spend the weekend with my family.

  As usual, my twin brother Mikael was nowhere around.

  “How’s school?” Dad inquired, biting into a slice of pizza while watching his favorite film. “Sorry to hear about your dean, honey.”

  “It’s okay, Dad. The entire school is still mourning, but we’ll get by. Soon someone will replace him. I just hope he or she will be as humble, considerate, and as kind as Dean O’Neal.”

  “I’m sure they will nominate someone better,” Dad said. “By the way, have you heard from your brother? I haven’t heard from him since yesterday.”

  “Uhm…y-yeah, he called earlier today and told me they are still busy with their research,” I lied.

  “I am very proud of both of you. It’s a great joy for us to see our children grow up year after year into such a fine man and woman.”

  Mom walked into the living area with a smile on her face and Dad handed her a slice of pizza. She tried to cut her pizza with a fork, and I intervened so she wouldn’t get frustrated. I watched attentively; I’d noticed she ate less and less these days.

  We were chatting about my friends and the silly events of the past week. She listened and laughed at my stories.

  “Mom, you know what? I saw a very handsome guy today!”

  “Really? Do you like him? I won’t tell your mom, I promise. What does he look like?”

  “Oh, he is like Professor Gabriel Emerson and Gideon Cross rolled into one!”

  “Who are they? Your ex-boyfriends?”

  I laughed at her silly question. “How I wish!”

  “For me, the most handsome man who ever crossed the earth is Ivo. I met him in Verona when I attended my brother’s wedding.”

  “Ahem,” Dad coughed out. “I know, right?” he muttered to himself and winked at Mom.

  It has been almost twenty-four years since Mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Dad learned to embrace this disease. He never faltered. He did not retreat; rather he helped raise awareness and advocated for those who are affected.

  “Dad, part of this disease is they state things that are not the most appropriate.”

  Dad just smiled at me and shook his head. Mom joined us to watch the movie, and we were laughing the whole time until it finished.

  I eventually went up to my room, took a bath, and felt the soft plush surface of my mattress under me.

  I looked around my room that was full of posters of my favorite celebrities and bands. Out of all the posters on my walls, my favorite was the face collage I made from recycled magazines. I ripped out pages from magazines and then cut out the faces to use for the collage. What I created was the face of my dream guy.

  Glancing at the collage, I did a double take. I stood up from my bed and ripped the collage off the wall.

  I knew it. That is why the guy in the funeral looked familiar.

  I didn’t know that my face collage could possibly come to life.

  Chapter II

  Dilemma

  Monday kicked off the week with a couple of animal behavior lectures—there’s nothing quite like two hours of trying to understand the mating habits of orangutans.

  The lecture was boring with all the rules, reviewing the syllabus, and the grunts and thrusts this male orangutan with enormous cheek pads was doing in front of the projector.

  “Look at that,” whispered Tats. She sounded amused when a rejected male orangutan used coercion to have forced sex with him.

  “Hey Gats, if you’re not gonna get any, you might as well see how the animal kingdom gets it on!” shouted Dean Richie across the room. He was definitely hitting on me, but I never really liked him. He was obnoxious and so full of himself. The only thing I did like about him was he was a mediocre quarterback.

  “Get your mind out of the gutter, Dean, there’s a lecture going on here!” yelled Kyle Phillips, my dear ex-boyfriend who I assumed told one of his friends we broke up because I refused to have sex with him. Then, that friend told another friend, who told another friend until the rumor spread faster than an epidemic moving steadily along the hallways of the College of Arts and Sciences, and it apparently survived.

  Would anyone mention the sin of sexual refusal?

  When I refused to “go all the way” with Kyle, I wasn’t turning him down, but he thought otherwise. His ego ended up getting hurt because he thought I didn’t love him as much as he loved me.

  Well, I thought a sexual dry spell was natural, and I didn’t feel the drought at that time for me to water my plant. It was not really that big of a deal being a virgin. Some people got embarrassed admitting it and some people were even teased—sometimes by other virgins. I’m just someone who didn’t give a damn.

  I rolled my eyes at them.

  The rest of the class passed uneventfully; the professor continued to lecture and I barely listened, doodling in my notebook and checking my phone until the session was over.

  The class ended and before I could make it out of the room, I felt someone grab my arm.

  “Agata, I’m sorry. I was a jerk. I shouldn’t have spilled it to anyone. Look, I was insulted. I didn’t mean it,” Kyle said.

  “Fine, apology accepted, even though you and your friend have labeled me as having some kind of dry spell. Now leave me alone,” I snapped.

  “Agata, please, we need to talk.”

  I yanked my arm away from him.

  “I no longer want anything to do with you.”

  “Agata, I miss you so muc—”

  “Gats! Come on!” A call from Tats cut him off.

  I stormed away to our lab before he could say anything.

  ***

  The smell of formaldehyde filled the air as we hovered over a microscope, inspecting the tissue of an unfortunate amphibian. Behind the safety glasses and rubber gloves, this was just an ordinary day for a biology major.

  I thought, and I still think, it is really interesting how living organisms function all the way down to the individual cells.

  Despite my fascination, I always asked myself why I decided to take up biology. Why am I doing this? Originally, I guess it was because I would like to help find a cure for Alzheimer’s or other types of diseases since I was the miracle product of a medical experiment my mother had gone through. I wanted to return the favor in any way I could. Almost all the prerequisites to become a doctor are biology classes, so I just decided to start off as a biology major and work my way up from there.

  Before dissecting the other amphibians, I took a picture of each of them.

  Back in high school, I was hired to take a series of portraits of Beauford alumni, so I booked my buddy Tatiana to assist me. It was seriously an awesome experience. I got a happy feeling inside whenever the word photography arose.

  When I put food, animals, cultures, and travel together, and they are captured in a photo, my heart flutters.

  Luckily for those of us who love photography, it’s easy to block out the haters, pick up our cameras, and just take a step back and breathe in the world, rather than charging ahead and missing it all.

  Why was I thinking about photography inside our bio lab?

  I just loved photography. Didn’t we all love it?

  I loved images, but the daily slog to earn a living as a photographer was different than when sitting down to do research for the betterment of humanity, with reas
onable pay of course.

  “Ms. Ferrero, this is not a photography class! Focus on your specimen,” Professor Lee scolded me.

  “She’s probably mistaken where the photography class is, sir, even after three and a half years,” Raven humored along with it.

  The class erupted into a fit of giggles.

  So this was my dilemma. I was stressed and unhappy; I felt constrained and pressured when it came to experiments and research. I did not see myself going through more of this and I did not want to do any more research. It meant I had to rule out the possibility of becoming a doctor, but I never wanted to disappoint Dad.

  I wasn’t sure what I would do.

  I was undecided on a career choice, but I believed that with my foundation in biology, my job selection in the health field would be sufficient in the future—at least I hoped so.

  I just smiled and went back to dissecting this little poor creature.

  “Hey, Coach Andre called us. We have practice, see you guys later!” bade Apple. The two of them headed toward the gym while Tatiana and I walked out of the building and made our way back to the dorm.

  “Gats! I have some good news for you!”

  “What is it?”

  “The mystery guy at the funeral, remember him?”

  I nodded. How could I forget?

  “I know now who he is!” she exclaimed. “He is Reeve Gates, the son of Rufus Gates, who is the owner and President of Gates University!”

  “So?”

  “What do you mean ‘So’?” Tats demanded, quirking an eyebrow in disbelief of my lack of interest.

  I rolled my eyes, just to show her I wasn’t interested.

  “Oh please, that’s why you zoned out twice when you saw him,” Tats teased.

  “No,” I opposed, but my cheeks turned pink and she grinned.

  “Well, you should know that he is six-two, one-eighty pounds, has blue eyes, dark brown hair, his zodiac sign is Aquarius, his shoe size is twelve…”