Something Like Fate

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Something Like Fate Page 1

by Susane Colasanti




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  part one - april-may

  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

  part two - june-august

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  part three - september-october

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Acknowledgements

  VIKING

  Published by Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A.

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3

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  Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

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  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)

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  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  First published in the U.S.A. by Viking, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 2010

  Copyright © Susane Colasanti, 2010

  All rights reserved

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

  Colasanti, Susane.

  Something like fate / by Susane Colasanti.

  p. cm.

  Summary: Lani and Jason, who is her best friend’s boyfriend, fall in love,

  causing Lani tremendous anguish and guilt.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-22300-0

  [1. Interpersonal relations—Fiction. 2. Guilt—Fiction. 3. Friendship—Fiction. 4. Schools—Fiction.]

  I. Title.

  PZ7.C6699So 2010

  [Fic]—dc22

  2009024906

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  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 actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  For Shawn,

  inventor of the note code,

  however far away

  part one

  april-may

  “If you believe in coincidence,

  then you aren’t paying attention.”

  —David Life

  “The pleasure of what we enjoy

  is lost by wanting more.”

  —fortune cookie

  1

  I never meant for it to happen like this. But if I had the chance, there’s no way I would take it all back.

  2

  “Why are you always checking your horoscope?” Blake accuses.

  “Why aren’t you?” I say. Checking my weekly horoscope every Monday is an essential part of my life. It’s like, took a shower, check. Went to school, check. Did homework, partial check (depending on the length of work involved and difficulty level). Today is Monday, so read horoscope, definite check.

  He goes, “Um, I don’t know, maybe because it’s bogus?”

  I gasp. The gasp is half joking and half serious. “Take that back!”

  “No.”

  “Take it back!”

  “Not until you prove that horoscopes aren’t a totally bogus waste of time.”

  “Like that’ll be difficult.” I grab my laptop, which is sliding off the pillow. When I’m online, I like to sit on my bed. But when I’m doing homework, I sit at my desk. My bed is a relaxation-only zone.

  “Go ahead, then,” Blake challenges.

  “Fine, I will.” I’m on the best website for weekly horoscopes. I don’t know how this astrologer does it, but she’s scarily accurate every single week. She just knows. True, I’ve only been checking the site since school started, and it’s April. So that’s like . . . thirty horoscopes. Which I think is enough to know that my horoscope is something I can trust. It helps me feel prepared for whatever happens next. Sort of.

  I’m not a fan of the Unknown. The Unknown can change your entire life in an instant. The Unknown can take everything away from you and never give it back. Your life can end in a flash before you even have time to know it’s over.

  There is no safe. There is no control.

  I scroll down the page, searching. “Oh! Here.” I scroll down some more. “‘Mars and the creative Uranus synergistically merge their energies on the ninth, exposing you to an exciting world of possibilities. Mars, the ruler of ambition, is turning your life around and will be pushing you over new thresholds and into new situations. If you continue to cling to your comfortable routine, you could miss out on new people, interesting ideas, and’ . . . yeah.”

  “And yeah what?” Blake says.

  “And just . . . whatever, the rest didn’t go.”

  “Aha!”

  “That is so not the point. Everything else totally goes!”

  “So then why doesn’t the last part go?”

  “Because it’s about professional possibilities. It’s for people with jobs.”

  “See? You don’t have a job.”

  “Because I’m in school!”

  “Exactly!”

  “What, like I’m the only Taurus who’s sixteen? We’re all different ages!”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What about the rest of it? How do you explain how perfect all that other stuff is?”

  “Riiight. Because new opportunities are only happening to you.”

  “That’s not . . . forget it.” It’s not just about
what my horoscope says. It’s about astrology in general. I definitely believe that whatever sign you are determines your inherent personality traits. I totally fit the description of a Taurus: loves nature, seeks comfort and pleasure, connects with the Earth, into serenity, stubborn, passionate, and nurturing. It’s a quality sign.

  “Aw.” Blake sits on my bed. “Don’t get all offended.”

  “I’m not,” I say. But I am. I’m sensitive about people blowing off the things I believe in like they’re nothing. Like I’m this freak who’s confusing fantasy with reality.

  People who don’t get astrology are always like, Why do you even care what your horoscope says? Why don’t you just live your life? The thing is, if you know what to look out for, you can be ready for anything. Well, maybe not anything, but you can be ready for things you wouldn’t normally be ready for if you didn’t know about them. It helps me deal with the Unknown.

  Blake scrunches up next to me. He’s like, “What does mine say?”

  There are a few people in my life I can always count on. Blake is one of them. We’ve been friends for two years and we’ve never had a fight. The only person I’m closer to than Blake is Erin. She’s been my best friend for a long time. Erin’s a Leo, which means her temper can be a problem. She’s also fearless and self-confident, which sometimes makes me jealous. I wouldn’t call myself an introvert, but I wish I were as outgoing as Erin. I’d give anything to know what it feels like to be fearless.

  Blake is awesome. He’s so funny. And super reliable. He’s never let me down, not even once. Plus, he’s really cute. But not in a way where I’m attracted to him. Well, maybe I would be if he weren’t gay.

  No one else knows. If Blake were any farther back in the closet, he’d have random Boy Scout camping equipment and shirts he outgrew in middle school piled on top of him. Blake’s dad would kill him if knew he was gay. For real. So Blake’s not coming out until college, when he says his real life will start. He spends a lot of time on school stuff so his transcript will open doors to wherever he wants to go. He’s always talking about how amazing college will be—when he can be his true self, without worrying about impending death by deranged parent.

  Things might be different if his mom were still here, but she married some other guy when Blake was thirteen. Then she moved to California. At first, she called Blake all the time. Now Blake only hears from her on his birthday.

  Everyone assumes Blake is straight. He likes blending in. It’s just easier that way. Besides me, he only hangs out with a couple other friends. Kids at school see us together all the time. I even heard a rumor that we were going out. Blake considers this a compliment because he insists that I’m a “hot babe.” Whenever he calls me that, I laugh so hard. I don’t think I’m hot at all. Unless you consider short and skinny to be hot. I wish I were taller with more curves, like Erin. My hazel-blue eyes hardly make me more attractive. Neither does my straight, black hair, even though it’s long. I wear it with bangs to cover the scar on my forehead. Trust me. There’s nothing sexy about a ripped-up face.

  I totally think Blake would be out if it weren’t for his dad. It’s not that Blake wants to hide who he is. He doesn’t even care that much what other kids think. He just doesn’t want to deal with his dad finding out. The fights they have are seriously scary. Blake’s dad never hits him or anything (which might change if he knew), but I’ve heard his dad yell. Some of the things he’s said probably hurt worse than anything physical ever could.

  Blake trusted me with the truth last summer when we were spending all this time together. It was obvious that something major was going on with him. I swore that I wouldn’t tell anyone. Erin doesn’t even know.

  I click on “Capricorn” so we can read Blake’s horoscope.

  “There!” I yell. “What does the second paragraph say?”

  “Yeah, yeah . . .”

  “That wasn’t a rhetorical question.”

  “You’re very demanding today.”

  “You love it. Now read.”

  Blake reads. “‘Hiding behind your protective layer is wearing you down. With the moon in dramatic Leo, you’re inspired to launch a personal crusade to support your future ambitions. Keep your eye on the prize and continue handling unrewarding arrangements with calm determination. When the dust settles, you will prevail in a domestic or personal transaction.’”

  I’m like, “Now what have we learned?”

  “Hmph.” I can tell Blake is fighting it. He has to admit there’s something legit going on here.

  “Doesn’t it make you feel better about things?”

  “I’m not particularly motivated to go out and launch a personal crusade yet. Maybe this applies to a year from now?”

  “It can be for whenever you want.”

  “Let’s ask Magic 8 Ball,” Blake says. I have a special glittery Magic 8 Ball. We always consult it for matters of importance. “Is it time for me to launch a personal crusade?” he asks. Then he shakes Magic 8 Ball and turns it over. “‘My sources say no.’”

  “It does not say that!”

  “Yuh-huh!” Blake shoves Magic 8 Ball at me.

  “Okay, well . . . like I said, it can be for whenever.”

  I just hope that whenever gets here soon. Blake should be living the life he wants.

  3

  Erin is in love.

  “Who’s the boy?” I ask.

  “What boy?” she goes. I don’t know why she bothers pretending. She knows I know there’s a boy. I can always tell.

  I’m like, “The boy you’re in love with.”

  Now that Erin’s scored the glossy new Beetle convertible she’s been lusting after forever (in heaven blue, which is a seriously sweet color), I don’t have to wait for Mom to pick me up after school. I love the feeling of riding home with Erin, like we’re totally free, like we can go anywhere. Her Beetle gets about twenty-four miles per gallon. This could be better, so I only partially approve of its efficiency. But I absolutely approve of the cute flower holder, which I keep filled with flowers from my garden.

  Since Erin got her car, she’s been great about driving me home. Everything’s so spread out in our town. Some people take walks, but just when they feel like walking. They don’t actually get anywhere. I’ll ride my bike to go somewhere nearby, but you need a car to get anywhere real. When Erin gives me a ride home, it takes her all this extra time to go from my house to hers. Good thing she’s so into her car. Any excuse to drive it works for her.

  “There’s no boy,” Erin says. She has this secret smile and faraway eyes. It’s obvious there’s a boy.

  “Oh,” I say, “there’s a boy.”

  “Well.” More faraway eyes. “There might be a boy.”

  “If there was a boy, what would his name be?”

  “Jason.”

  I’ve had a few classes with Jason, but I’ve never really talked to him. He’s in Erin’s multimedia elective. She was lusting after him so hard when spring semester started, but she couldn’t figure out what to do about it. Then they got put together for a group project and started talking.

  Actually, they were talking a little before that. They have a big group of mutual friends. I call it the Golden Circle. It’s the same group I used to be in, but that was before it absorbed Jason and some other kids I don’t really know. I’d still be part of that group if I were the same joiner I used to be. Oh, and if Bianca didn’t have that tizzy fit last year.

  I don’t know what her problem was. I guess she noticed that I was gradually drifting away from everyone. It wasn’t like a conscious decision or anything. I just didn’t feel like doing as much group stuff anymore. Especially since it felt like the same parties at the same houses with the same hundred people. My connections with them started to seem so superficial.

  Bianca took offense.

  “Why are you being like this?” she went. A bunch of us were hanging out after school at Green Pond, just goofing off and wasting time. I was getting bored. I found a big rock
jutting out over the pond and went to sit there alone. Bianca followed me.

  “Being like what?” I asked.

  “You’re acting like you’re better than us.”

  “No I’m not.”

  “Then why didn’t you come out with us last weekend?”

  “I just didn’t feel like it.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t realize it was a required activity.” I had no idea why Bianca was harassing me. She was getting more annoying every day.

  Bianca was all, “Since when don’t you feel like hanging out with your friends?”

  “It’s not like that. I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Yeah, but are you having a good time?”

  “Where is all this coming from? Did I do something?”

  “You think you’re too good to be around people who aren’t activists or whatever.”

  “No I don’t!”

  “Just because we’re not out saving the environment doesn’t mean we’re losers,” Bianca huffed. “We do a lot for the school, you know.”

  The Golden Kids have a reputation for being friendly and helpful. They do a zillion school activities. They’ve completely taken over the student council. A few of them mentor at the middle school, which Erin’s been thinking about doing. They’re all popular, but not crazy popular like the jocks. They’re sort of all the kids who are lucky enough to have both decent looks and decent home lives. Which means they also have a decent amount of money to play with. I’d rather have my parents save money to help me with college, so I’m not into the Golden Kids’ materialistic ways.

  But it makes sense that Erin’s still friends with them. She loves volunteering, especially with little kids. Erin was a candy striper in the pediatric ward at the hospital for a long time. She’s the best babysitter. She even has a bag of tricks that she brings over when she babysits. She’s completely not embarrassed to still like all the fun stuff we were into when we were eight. Kids love Erin as much as she loves them.

 

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