Lucky: Dorian Gray Novels Book 1 Read online

  Lucky

  Dorian Gray Novels

  Book 1

  F. E. Bradley

  Lucky Dorian Gray Novels Book 1

  . All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by Leslie Bradley

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

  F. E. Bradley

  Visit my website at https://effieb26.wixsite.com/febradley

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing: March 2019

  ISBN- 9781730934834

  Thank you to Professor Schoofs. I hated that you assigned 100-page papers on economics, but it helped me realize I could do more than I thought possible.

  This book never would have been created without the love and support of my husband. You are my Dorian and Wyatt wrapped into one. I love you.

  Eila, you are stronger and more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. You are my inspiration in everything.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 1

  Lucky’s a great nickname, but if it actually had any truth to it I can’t imagine that I’d be facing a surprise test on my third day of class. I knew this professor wasn’t going to be a favorite about 5 minutes into the first class, and today proves my point. He’s calling each student up to the front individually to hand them a test and a bluebook.

  “Okay, now that you all have tests, you may begin. I hope that you have all completed your assignments because it won’t do you any good to try cheating – no two of your tests are the same. They are each a random subset of a possible 300 questions. Enjoy.”

  Wow. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anyone as pleased with themselves as Professor Kondy. I don’t think he smiled at all during our first two classes, but today his smile just seems plastered to his face as everyone queasily looks down and opens their tests.

  Then, from the back of the room a male voice speaks up. “Professor” He continues as he walks down the steps to get to the front of the room. “Excuse me, but you didn’t call my name to get a test.”

  The professor smugly responds “If I didn’t call your name, then you’re not in my class. This is Biology 101 located in the Greene Lecture Hall. You should probably look again at your class list.”

  From the other side of the room, someone makes a descending aww sound to add to the poor guy’s embarrassment. I don’t want to look up and add to the shame he must be feeling, but as I look to the side, I see that everyone else has delayed taking their test to see what happens. So much for people in college being more mature.

  Not missing a beat, he responds. “No need for that. I am in this class. I was a late registration, so this is my first day in attendance. When you return to your office, I’m sure you’ll find an e-mail from the dean”

  I look up just in time to see the professors sadistic smile wipe from his face and his chin tip up. “We simply don’t allow late registration.”

  “You’ll find out in my case that it is allowed. As I’ve explained, you will find an e-mail from the dean when you return to your office. I see that you have an unused test there, perhaps I could use it, so I won’t miss another day of classes.”

  The professor’s visibly flustered as he hands over the test and grabs his pen. “Fine. You may take the test today until this all gets sorted out, but if you really are in this class, I will not change your grade on this test or weight it any differently just because you were not here to do the homework or attend the first classes!”

  It looks like Professor Kondy’s smile has permanently retreated. My gaze leaves the scowl of the professor, and as the broad-shouldered student turns around, I’m completely dazzled.

  The contrasts between the two men at the front of the room are staggering. Professor Kondy has straight and limp black hair with a full beard and a pinched in face. His shoulders are slim and curved in a way that indicates that he is an old man that has never done anything physical in his life. His skin is that pale yellow color that people get when they don’t spend any time outside. His eyes are the opposite as they seem to have too much color; there isn’t enough white around the iris.

  The student on the other hand is miraculous. Instantly I know that he is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. His eyes are bright blue, and his hair holds all the various hues of honey perfectly blended and waving together. He’s slim but toned. He looks like he should be in some large city locked into a modeling contract. I’ve never put a lot of stock into appearance; mine or that of others, but I’m sure his good looks could open any door he’d like. What is someone like that doing in in the middle of Wisconsin at a small private college like this?

  “And what is your name young man?” the professor says, finally regaining his composure as the student is almost to the back of the room.

  I’m fully turned around in my seat watching him as he turns back to answer in the same formal and confident tone he’d been using. “Dorian Smith”. He briefly locks eyes with me and looks shocked that I’m starring at him. In the moment I freeze, but as he hastily shakes his head and turns back around, I realize that I had my mouth open like an idiot. I thaw and glance around the room – most of the other girls are still starring at him with similar expressions. Why did he look so shocked to see me? It was almost like he recognized me, but I know I’ve never seen anyone like him before. He must be at least a little accustomed to people starring at him with a face like that. Then I remember that I’m taking a test. No time to contemplate now – I refuse to flunk out of college on my third day!

  About 30 minutes in, Dorian quickly walks to the front of the room, hands his exam to the professor and leaves. It’s a full 20 minutes before the next person finishes and most of us are still scribbling franticly up to the last minute when the professor makes us stop.

  I didn’t quite finish, but I feel alright about how it went and grateful that I was talked into taking AP bio in high school. I guess I won’t know for sure until the grades come back.

  The professor gave us a few disheartening pieces of information on our first day of class. The first was that he grades everything on a curve. The second is that he sets up that curve so that just under half the class will not receive a passing grade – he really seemed to take pleasure in that fact. I just hope I’m in the ½ that passes – I imagine this class would be even less fun the second time around.

  I’ve only got an hour for lunch before my next class, but that’s more than enough time to drive to my parent’s house in Pickett and get back before the start of afternoon classes. At least there are some advantages to living your entire life inside a very small radius.

  Lunch is ready and on a plate when I come
in the door. I don’t think my mother has ever let anyone miss a meal. Whenever the topics of food or money ever come up, she always seems to revert back to one of her favorite lines - “living on a farm, you may not have much money, but you always have good food.” And for us at least that has always been true.

  It feels good to be back in easy surroundings able to slouch and eat in peace. My mom is busy packing a familiar lunch sack. The only time it’s used is when my dad can’t spare the time to come back from the field to eat. It only happens for a few days each in the spring and fall when crops need to be planted and harvested, but what it means for me is that my folks won’t be around much for the next few days.

  I know that I could take a lot of stress away from them by offering an extra hand, but they’ve never wanted to involve me in the work of the farm – especially not when school was in session. They made it very clear from a young age that they didn’t want me to follow in their path. As far back as I can remember they’ve said that the family farm was a dying industry. With as many neighbors as I’ve seen go out of business and sell off to the factory farms, I know they’re right.

  So, school needs to be a priority. I want to get out and see the world, and there aren’t any jobs you can get around here that could fund something like that without a college degree. If it weren’t for the large amount of financial aid that I got from Ripon, I don’t think I’d be able to afford college either. Living at home isn’t what I’d ideally like to be doing (even though my parents are really great), but a lot of my decisions these days come down to dollars and cents - in particular, the dollars and cents I don’t have.

  With lunch finished and a quick goodbye to my mom, I drive back toward town and allow my thoughts to drift to Dorian. If this was his first day in classes, and he’s a freshman too, I wonder if he’ll show up in any of my other classes. It’s a small school with less than 1,000 students total, so hopefully the chances are good. The possibility makes me smile. The fact that I’m allowing myself to daydream about a boy makes me a little mad at myself. Fantasizing about guys isn’t a part of the identity I’ve crafted for myself, but no one like Dorian has ever been near me before either.

  The first class of the afternoon is a disappointment – all the faces in it are the same ones that were there before.

  Thankfully as I walk into my second and last class of the afternoon, I see him seated along the far side, toward the back. He’s talking with two girls from the class and he notices me looking at him. I look down and keep walking, but it feels like he’s staring at me. Dying to know what they’re talking about I decide to take a seat just a few rows up from his. It’s his first day in classes – he’d have no way to know that it wasn’t where I usually sat, right? Or that I chose this seat to be near him? As I turn to take my seat, I see the girl on the right lean in and pout like she’s starring in some lipstick commercial.

  The girls are obviously trying to flirt, but his answers to their questions are very short and brisk. He seems to be a little grumpy that they keep asking him things, but for my sake I hope they keep at it. I’d like to be able to see Dorian too, but for now I’ll settle for eavesdropping.

  “So, we both plan on being business majors. What are you interested in here?” I get the sense that she’s not asking about his academic interests.

  I hear his flat reply. “I haven’t picked a major yet”

  “Which one of the dorms are you staying in?”

  “None”

  But that doesn’t make any sense. Ripon has a residency requirement. The only way that you don’t have to stay in the dorms your first two years is if your parents’ house is within 30 minutes of the school and you’re staying with them like I am. I’ve lived around here my whole life, so I know he isn’t local. If he transferred in as a junior or senior, why would he be in two freshman classes with me?

  “If you want to spend some time hanging out in a dorm, you can always stop by Smith hall. Jenni and I are roommates there in 302” the girl softly purrs.

  His tone is cold and final as he replies, “I’m not interested. I think you should probably stop talking to me now.”

  Wow. He’s kind of a jerk. I guess if you look that good you can be, but he could have said no a little nicer. Why am I wasting time trying to get closer to someone like this? Oh yeah, he’s gorgeous. I stop to chastise myself – looks shouldn’t matter. I’ve seen attractive men before and none of them have turned my head like him. What is it with this guy?

  The girls walk past me at a fast pace and head to the other side of the room obviously offended. I can’t blame them. I would never have the guts to throw myself at someone like that but if I did and got those results, I’d run farther away than just the other side of the room.

  Sitting in front of him was definitely a mistake. Even though he seems angry for some reason, I still want to find a way to sneak a glance, but I can’t figure out a way to do it without risking the kind of reaction he dished out to those two girls. I’ve never tried anything like that and no matter how good looking he is, I’m just not the type of person to throw myself at someone – I wouldn’t even know how.

  My last hope is that when class is over, I can stay in my seat long enough that he’s forced to walk past me, so I can stare after him as he walks out of the room. Pathetic, but it’s the best I’ve got.

  When the lecture is finally done, I pretend to read through all my notes as the rest of the class clears out. I look through the last of them and he still hasn’t gone past! Slowly, I pack up my bag one item at a time. Dorian and I have been the last two people in the room for a couple minutes and my pulse keeps increasing as time passes, but now I’m out of ways to delay. As I stand up, I’d swear that I can see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye. As I cross the front of the room to get to the door, I can hear him following just behind me. I don’t look back until I get to my car, but then I don’t see him there. It felt like he was right there the whole walk; like being near him winds a spring at my core – it must be my imagination.

  Chapter 2

  O n the ride home I try to figure out why I’m so desperate for information about Dorian and why I’m so affected by his looks – that just isn’t like me. I’ve had two boyfriends in my life and that was enough for me to figure out that I’m just not one of those girls that needs a guy. More than that – the more they started to need me, the more annoyed I became that they were around. Obviously, neither relationship lasted very long.

  My parents met in grade school and they only ever dated each other. They’re very happy together, but as best I can tell, whatever gene leads to the desire for domestic bliss just didn’t pass down to me.

  At home I grab a couple of marshmallows from the cupboard and a textbook, and I head for the edge of the cow yard. As soon as I’m over the edge of the hill, my pet cow Mary picks up her head and starts jogging in my direction. She slows as she comes to the edge of the fence and she’s already humming for the marshmallows. The longer I wait to hand them over, the louder and more insistent the hum becomes. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. I hold out my hand and she grabs them all at once. While she chews, I reach out and rub the top of her head in the way I know she likes.

  Standing there, I look around at the pasture with its rolling hills, trees and a pond in the distance. I can see a few white ducks swimming on the pond and cows leisurely grazing on the hill behind. Taking a deep breath and sitting in the grass I feel the warmth of being home. I know that even here in rural Wisconsin where having a few acres isn’t that uncommon, the place I call home is more beautiful than most. Still, it feels like more than beauty that draws me to this place – it’s the sense of complete and total peace that I get when I’m here.

  Suddenly I think of Dorian. Is it more than beauty with him? Argh. Of course, it’s his looks! It has to be. The only other thing I know about him is that he’s not very nice to girls that like him – a great sign for me.

  I sit in the grass where I intend to spend a few hours and hopefully
get through a few chapters of this book on English literature, but all I find myself doing is trying to imagine his face in my mind.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The next day I anxiously wait for Professor Kondy’s class – something I didn’t think would ever happen. I’ve decided that this time I’m going to get a seat where I can look at him and where I can see if he’s staring at me. I rush to get there as soon as I can, but he’s already seated in the far back of the room. Since I can’t get a seat behind him, I settle for a couple of seats over. This time, I don’t care if he knows that this isn’t my usual seat. I need to get this thing I’ve got with him figured out quick before it derails me any further.

  As I look over at him, he looks slightly nervous and he’s staring straight at me. “Hello, my name is Dorian. What’s yours?”

  “Ah…Lucky – that’s what everyone calls me.” He looks at me like I gave him the wrong answer.

  Just then, someone walks between us and takes a seat. As they pass, I’m still looking in his direction, but he’s now looking down at his book like we never spoke.

  Class starts and Professor Kondy has us passing the stack of graded tests around the room so that we can search through to find our own and pull it out. Sarcastically I think; I’m so glad that today is the day that I chose to sit in the back row – it gave me the privilege of having most of the class see my grade. I hope it isn’t too embarrassing. As the stack comes to me, I see Dorian’s paper on the top of the stack with a large ‘A’ scribbled on the front. I shuffle through what’s left of the stack to find mine and along the way see several F’s, a few D’s and then my own test with a B- written on it.

  I let out a relieved sigh and tidy up the stack to pass it on. I want to see the moment when Dorian sees his grade just so I can see if he’s surprised or smug. Either way, it really is impressive that he was able to do so well without being in the first classes. I stare at him as the girl between us readies to pass the stack. He looks up and his eyes lock with mine – he’s looking at me like he’s trying to make sense of my face, studying each feature. The girl next to him is holding out the stack for him to take, but he doesn’t even seem to notice her.