The Protector

TEN

I ripped at the waistband control of the Spanx again as I sat in the ivory upholstered chair. The rectangular dining table was adorned with strands of freshwater pearls, fragrant white peonies, and gold dust I seriously considered was real. Fittingly, my assigned seat was at the head table, situated in the small intimate parlor off the lobby. I overheard from others seated at adjoining tables that the reception in the lobby was a celebration for all incoming students, while the parlor was invitation only, and only the creme of the Protection crop made the parlor cut - a VIP section of sorts.

I shifted in my seat, my busy hands falling into my lap, as Helen unexpectedly breezed into the room. She was glowing in a long white dress, her blonde hair pulled halfway up and curled. The largest diamonds I had ever seen hung from her ears, sparkling brilliantly despite the low light in the parlor. I frowned and secretly hoped their excessive opulence would be unbearably heavy all evening, slowly ripping at her earlobes. I tore my eyes from the brilliant earrings and over to her escort. I immediately recognized him from the framed photos in Kyler's bedroom. His father. He was very handsome with dark hair and kind, green eyes. He looked to be about 6'3" or so but carried himself in an understated way, like he didn't fully comprehend how good looking he was.

To my horror, Helen made a beeline for my table and set her gold table number directly to my right, while her husband placed his seat number across from her. I cursed under my breath, wishing I paid more attention to the seating assignments. I had been so focused on ensuring I was close to my father, I had missed most everything else.

"Hello, Perry. I feel like I just saw you," Helen joked stiffly as she swept her long dress beneath her and sat regally, like an evil queen. "I'm glad the dress fits. For the most part," she taunted, her eyes never leaving the roll of fat on my midsection. I begrudgingly resisted the urge to throttle her right in front of everyone.

"Yes, thank you so much, Helen, for the amazing wardrobe," I lied. "I don't think I've had the pleasure to meet your date yet." I smiled genuinely across the table at Mr. Isaacs who was absentmindedly playing with his ivory tie and appeared surprisingly underwhelmed by this evening's affair. His green eyes shifted from the tie to my face and he grinned, displaying the exact same smile as his son. I felt the air fly out of my lungs. It was as if I was sitting across from Kyler in twenty years, but with a different set of eyes and hair color.

"Of course. Perry, this is Sam. Sam, Perry." Helen motioned limply between us. I extended my hand, greedily meeting his large palm with a firm handshake.

"It's so nice to meet you, Sam," I said genuinely.

"It's great to meet you too, Perry," he said warmly, his prominent southern accent matching his son's. "I've been looking forward to meeting the infamous daughter of President Andrews." I raised an eyebrow, cutting my eyes to Helen, wondering what he meant by infamous, but he continued to smile, completely void of ill intent.

Before we could further our conversation, the large wooden doors swung open and everyone stood abruptly, but silently, with superhuman grace and speed as if a wedding procession was about to begin. I stumbled to my feet, my ankles wobbling within the skinny straps of the high heels. The mysterious silence continued and I craned my neck towards the door. It was like a celebrity was in our midst. Who was it? I stretched my neck further, trying to see above Helen's massive hair. Even her hair was intrusive. I finally caught a glimpse of the celebrity as my eyes locked with my father's proud gray eyes. I slumped back into my seat, disappointed, not caring how everyone else stood and regarded him as the most glorious sight to behold. I half expected an impassioned slow clap to reverberate through these self important walls.

After what seemed like an eternity, my father appeared at the table holding his arms up at his sides as if to say, 'Calm down and take your seats everyone. I'm simply a Protector like the rest of you.' Inside my head, I rolled my eyes, knowing he was eating up the massive wave of adulation and loving how important he was to all these Protectors. 

I picked up my gold butter knife, spinning it between my fingers like a drum stick. I took drum lessons from 5th grade until sophomore year as it was a great way to workout some aggression when volleyball was out of season. This was yet another fact my father didn't know about me. As I absentmindedly ticked off a mental list of the events of my life my father had missed, the gold knife between my fingers slipped and gave way, snapping in two between my index and middle fingers. I stared down at the fragments of the knife with disbelief. It had to be made of solid gold, yet it had torn between my fingers as if it were made of paper. My panicked eyes scanned the other faces around me, but everyone was none the wiser, still staring adoringly at my father. I quickly shoved the knife under the table, making a mental note to ask Julian if his gift of strength began this way.

"Hello, Perry," my father said, unbuttoning his black tuxedo jacket while taking his seat. I tried to calm the uneasy feeling that clawed at my throat. I nodded at him, not yet trusting myself to speak. "I understand Helen has you settled in and prepared for your morning session with Jin Sung tomorrow," he said robotically, a stiff attempt at small talk. I nodded again, dreading the hell that was my new Protection schedule. Several moments passed until I finally steeled myself, held my breath, and attempted to reach out for his hand. I was desperate to complete my mission as soon as I could, but my father moved away from the table, shaking the hand of another Protection member. The Protector looked as nervous around my father as I felt sitting next to him. I frowned and turned my eyes back towards my silverware, but my hands fell to my lap. At this point, I didn't trust myself to touch it.

I glanced around the room and with all my fellow table guests involved in conversation, I felt it was a good time to use my mind to search for Kyler, hoping to feel him somewhere in this room, in the lobby, hell, on this planet. The maroon curtains near the entrance swayed back and forth on the large brass curtain rod. Nothing. I clenched my fists in my lap feeling the usual frustration settle in. Luckily, everyone around me was too self involved, drinking champagne and talking to their peers to notice my cute little magic trick. Everyone except a very pretty raven haired woman across the room eyeing me curiously, her head cocked to one side. The woman stood stoically by the entrance, casually late and beautifully dressed in a long red gown that hugged her large cleavage while accentuating her perfectly curvy hips. Alana. My stomach dropped somewhere below the expensive hardwood floors.