Caged Read Online Free Page B

They were more thin than full and had just the right amount of Cupid’s bow. To sum it all up, he was perfection.
    I, however, was not.
    I came out of my stupor to see him studying me - not in a sexual way, but clinically, as if I was a lab animal doing something interesting in my little cage. He shifted his attention to my store full of jewelry once he noticed me noticing him. I stayed silent while he wandered around taking everything in, again in a very studious fashion. I’m guessing he’s not actually a fan of fine accessories.
    “You made these?” he asked. There seemed to be a sense of appreciation in his tone.
    “Yes. I find vintage, broken or ugly pieces and find ways to rework them. I recently started working with recycled metal, plastics and other unusual things. It seems to be gaining popularity. I think people like the idea of supporting the ‘green’ movement.”
    “They’re…unusual,” he replied, lightly fingering a beaded necklace on display.
    “Unusual, eh? Is that a good or bad thing…or do I want to know?” I asked. I smiled uncomfortably awaiting his response. He seemed to really think about his answer before he spoke, as if it were paramount that he get it just right.
    “You have a distinct point of view, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. You combine color, metals and materials in a way that should create a visual disaster, yet it’s so beautiful in an original way,” he said with a steady tone. Maybe he really does appreciate jewelry. My face flushed and warmed with his compliment, and I instantly turned to shy away from him. “You’re very talented,” he added. It stopped me in my tracks.
    I turned in slow motion to face him, needing to see if once again he was pulling my chain. When I met his eyes it was clear that he’d meant what he said and all I could pull together in response was a measly “thanks”. I knew it was beyond weak considering the level of compliment I’d just received, but it was something so unexpected and unfamiliar that my brain hadn’t finished processing it before my mouth independently replied. I lacked a lot of social graces due to my sheltered childhood, but even more than that, I lacked praise to which I would have needed to respond. My parents were never quick with a compliment, and it left me feeling a little lost when his was so easily given.
    I was so excited upon receiving the news that I asked one of the other graduate students in the lab to drive me home right away. It wasn’t often that a non-doctorate student was published, and Professor Lewellen had made a special trip to our building to give me the news in person. My research on neurophysiology and its effects on the human immune system was being published in American Physiological Society’s Journal of Neurophysiology.
    I had been working on this connection since my undergraduate studies after a random chance discussion I had had with a chiropractor I met while studying in a nearby coffee shop. He had mentioned a link between improper nerve function and the immune system, and was so passionate about his clinical experience with it that I started to wonder if there was really something to it. I dedicated all my free time to researching the connection, and since I had more of that than I cared to admit to, I accomplished a lot before ever entering my masters level program. I had compiled a summary of extensive research, clinical application and trials, as well as case study statistics, and presented it to Dr. Lewellen for his review. He said it was amazing research with compelling information, but neglected to mention was that he was going to submit it to journals for review on my behalf.
    I felt like a kid on Christmas the whole way home in the car. I could barely sit still or shut up. It was probably good that I couldn’t see the expression of my poor classmate, who I’m sure was entirely disgusted with my antics by the time she dropped me off. I forgot to say thank you for the