A Matter of Fate

by Heather Lyons

  The little voice practically cackles at my smoothness.

  Jonah turns red, too. “NO. Listen—I get that you are weirded out about all of this. But I promise you there’s nothing to worry about. For your information, there are times I always block him, and vice versa. What you and I do is none of his business. And frankly, I highly doubt he’d want to know.”

  Thank. Gods.

  “Besides,” he adds, “we’ve always agreed that relationships are off limits. Blocking this sort of stuff from one another is routine.”

  “Why’d you hide this from me?” I ask, not so much accusing, but genuinely curious.

  “I didn’t hide it from you, Chloe . . . At least, if I did, it wasn’t purposeful.” He sighs, rubbing at his forehead. I worry he might be getting another migraine. “Maybe it’s the curse of being an Emotional. We’re just not able to express as much as we inspire in others.” He laughs quietly. “Ironic, right?”

  I mull this over. “Do a lot of people know that you two can communicate like this?”

  “I think some people suspect it; there are a select few who know simply because they’ve known us, as a unit, for a very long time.” He suddenly looks vulnerable. “I’ve never been very good about opening up often. I guess it’s a self-defense mechanism I’ve built up over the years. I don’t let a lot of people in. But,” he adds, when I try to apologize for being nosy, “you are not everybody. You are the person I love, and the person I’m going to spend my life with. You have every right to ask me these things and, in turn, expect to hear whatever it is you want to know about me, without hesitation. I know you’re worried right now that I’m upset you’re asking, but I’m not. I think . . . sometimes there are things I don’t actively tell you, but it’s more because I don’t think they’re worthy of being discussed. I’ll never hide anything from you, though. If you were to ever ask, I would never lie or deny the truth.”

  Jonah’s cell phone goes off later that night while he’s sleeping. Normally, I’d ignore it, because I wouldn’t want to be nosy (despite Jonah’s arguments earlier), but a picture flashes across the screen, of someone blonde.

  While I can’t see it too well, since it’s on the coffee table and I’m still on the couch, I have no doubt who it is.

  A minute after it stops ringing, the voicemail beep sounds. And then, a couple minutes after that, a text appears. I debate whether or not to read it, because it’s not my phone, but the green-eyed monster lurking inside demands to know what it says. So I gingerly slide the phone closer until I can see it.

  Please call me. I’m freaking out not knowing how you are.

  The little voice tries to rationalize with me, saying that just because Callie has texted Jonah, it doesn’t mean anything. But then, how does she know he’s been hurt? He’d said she’s a non, and since it’s forbidden to tell . . .

  Remember, the little voice offers, Kellan told her about the dreams. So she knows something, right?

  Which only confuses me more. I mean, both Jonah and Kellan had been pissed off at Lizzie telling Graham about our kind. Was it because they’d told once, too?

  Later the next morning, I watch Jonah check his phone. He reads the text silently before setting the phone back down. But, when he turns around, he knows that I know.

  I do not apologize for having read it. Instead, I ask, “Are you going to call her back?”

  He comes over to where I’m standing. “No.”

  I try to play it cool, as if I’m totally unaffected by his ex-girlfriend of three years texting him. “Why not?”

  He looks at me like I’m speaking Swahili. “Because it would upset you.”

  “No it wouldn’t,” I lie.

  “It’s okay that it does.” He’s serious. “It bothers me when you talk to my brother. But that,” he adds, “is unavoidable, due to our circumstances. It is very avoidable to just not call her back.”

  Oh great. He had to play the generous card. I offer hesitantly, “She’s worried about you.”

  “I’m sure she already knows that I’m awake and fine. Besides, the last time we spoke, I told her I didn’t want her to call me anymore. Not just because of you, but because I thought it makes things worse for her, too.”

  Which makes me wonder just how hard things are for Callie.

  Chapter 41

  Karl has a number of things to tell me once we get back to California. Due to the most recent attacks and despite the latest occurring in Annar, the Council has decided I’m to spend most of my free time on the Magicals’ plane, including, but not limited to, all weekends and many afternoons directly after school. Jonah and Kellan are also under said order, but I have my doubts that it’s because the Council believes they truly need protection. But there is enough fear of another attack that I’m to be constantly surrounded by as many Guard as possible, including, I suppose, my boyfriend and ex-boyfriend, who are, I’m discovering, virtually already members of the Guard in their own rights.

  In addition to this, I’ll be expected to move, along with the twins, to Annar within five days of graduation. Apparently, the Council wanted us there the very next day, but a few members (with kids) argued we deserved the bare minimum of fun before being sent off to the gallows—I mean, work.

  And that’s the final nail in the coffin. On the first day I move to Annar, I’ll be inducted into the Council. No internship first, which freaks me out. I’d been looking forward to that, considering my general lack of knowledge about what it takes to be a fully-functioning Creator on the Council. But Kleeshawell Rushfire, the current Creator, is really old, Karl says, and pretty much stays in grumpy self-appointed time-outs. In fact, he adds, all of the things Rushfire had done in Annar to help fix the breached shields were done under protest. His power is waning, and he doesn’t like being put into a position to possibly fail. He’s apparently eager to hand the reins over to me as quickly as possible.

  So there it is. I don’t get a summer vacation. I don’t get to hang out at the beach before moving. I don’t get three years of school and internship before assuming my chair on the Council. Come June fifteenth, I’ll be doing what I’ve been born to do.

  I’ll be a Council member, first tier, with six worlds’ worth of expectations weighing down on my shoulders. And boy, do I feel like running.

  Cora’s back to fighting form, waving off any concern anyone has about her attack like it’d been a minor fender bender. Trying to talk to her about it does no good; all she’ll say to me about it is that she expects me to listen to Karl from here on out. It’s like she’s aged ten years.

  She makes a lot of secretive phone calls lately, yet I can never figure out to whom. She’s constantly texting someone, and when she receives one, she smiles like she’s won the lottery. Asking about this, too, is pointless, because her lips are zipped tight. I don’t bother surging, because I figure if she wanted me to know, she’d tell.

  A month after the attack, Alex and Meg blow my mind by admitting they’ve been secretly dating for several months. This revelation prompts Lizzie to quietly beg Alex for help finding some kind of loophole for her and Graham. She insists that she doesn’t think she can go through with her commitments if she’s not allowed to love who she wants. It takes some convincing, but Alex agrees, and the two of them, along with Graham and Meg, spend countless hours after school researching in my dad’s library.

  Kellan’s mostly kept his distance from me, but over the last week or so, he’s slowly begun to come around and slide back into the group, albeit on the fringes. He eats with us at lunch, although on the opposite end of the table from me and Jonah, and even spends some time with his brother, outside of my presence. They are, according to Jonah, in an uneasy truce.

  I hate the distance between them and that it’s because of me. I want to do something to fix it, but any attempt at communication with Kellan is rebuffed, even in emails and texts. The truth is, I miss talking to him, miss his wisdom and advice and, even more importantly, just his sheer presence in my life,
even if only as a friend. I think Jonah knows this, and even hints at it at times, claiming he knows his brother, and figures, with enough time, he’ll come around. But I can’t help but wonder if I’ve done such irreparable damage that I’ve lost Kellan for good.

  So I’m stuck watching him from a distance, like I did with Jonah all those months ago. I watch him and worry about him and miss him so much it aches. And, as with Jonah before, I can tell Kellan isn’t happy: the smiles he gives others aren’t the ones I know to be real. They’re too bright, strained from trying too hard.

  Three days before Jonah and Kellan’s eighteenth birthday and nearly a month before mine, I find Kellan at my locker during a passing period. It’s the first time he’s sought me out in months, and my heart goes berserk in so many conflicted, confused ways.

  There is the obligatory small chitchat which has lately defined our relationship before he leans back against the lockers and stares straight ahead. “I was wondering if we maybe could talk about what’s happened.” He clears his throat uncomfortably. “Between us, I mean.”

  I want to, desperately. I want answers probably just as much as he does. But, I’m also terrified of being alone with him. Being together during the Annar battle was one thing, especially since we had a common goal of ensuring Jonah’s safety. But here . . . now? What’s to stop me from doing something unbelievably stupid? I mean, something about this boy encouraged me to betray Jonah for a little over two months.

  Even so, I agree to have the talk, because no matter what, I need this attempt at closure, too. But I still say to him, half-heartedly, “Are you sure you want to go through this again?”

  He gives me a sad, rueful smile, not the beautiful, sarcastic one I’ve long loved. “Stupid, isn’t it?” He taps his forehead. “I get it, I really do—I mean, every day, I see you and Jonah and know, logically, how things are.” He looks away, tearing my heart away with his gaze. “But my heart hasn’t quite figured it out yet.”

  Ohh . . . .

  “I just think, maybe . . . if we really talked about it, maybe my heart will finally catch up with my mind. I figure it’s worth a chance. I mean, what else can I lose?”

  I want to cry, admit to him that he hasn’t lost me—not entirely, at least. I may not be able to give him the relationship we once had, but I still need him. Want him. But I keep those messy thoughts and feelings in, even if he can sense them. Because we are in a crowded high-school hallway, and my boyfriend—his twin brother—is somewhere on the grounds nearby, and neither of us are willing to risk hurting him again.

  “You know,” Cora says to me later, her phone out in her hands but tilted just enough away from me so I can’t see the screen, “I’m glad to report that Kellan is finally over you.”

  We are standing in the same place where Kellan unequivocally told me a mere hour before that he is most definitely not over me. I shut my locker and turn to her. “Oh?”

  She waits until she’s finished typing a message before answering. “Yeah. This past weekend, when I was in Annar—”

  “Wait,” I say, holding a hand up. “You were in Annar this weekend? Why didn’t you come see me?” Me, who was also in Annar, trapped in some random, albeit swank, safe house. It doesn’t matter that Caleb and Jonah were with me—she should have called.

  “I figured you and Jonah wanted time to yourselves. Anyway, the point is, I saw Kellan with some girl.”

  “Some girl,” I repeat slowly.

  “Yeah,” she says, eyes back down on her phone. She blushes and types out a message. I wait impatiently, tapping my foot before she glances back up. “As I was saying, he was with some girl. And they were, you know, friendly.”

  I try not to grind my teeth. Which startles me, because, HELLO, this is actually good news, right?

  “And I was told it’s not the first time, or first girl. He’s playing the field, and having a swell time doing it, I guess.”

  And yet, I’ve begun to see red. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I thought you’d be happy. I mean, less guilt now, right?”

  I want to strangle her. Truthfully, anyone would do, but I’d prefer it to be her. Rather than screaming at her for her oblivious idiocy, I instead demand shrilly, “Who in the hell are you texting so much lately, Cora?”

  She doesn’t look up. Instead, a small, sly smile curves her lips. “Secrets are fun, aren’t they?”

  “I think Cora has a secret boyfriend,” I grumble to Jonah as we get into the Hummer.

  “And this pisses you off why?”

  “Because she won’t tell me who it is!”

  Karl and Jonah exchange an amused glance, which only further irritates me. I sulk in petulant silence for the next two miles before Jonah says, “So. You and Kellan are going to have a talk this afternoon.”

  This snaps me to attention. “How’d you know?”

  “He told me a little while ago. I think it’s a good idea.”

  “I was going to tell you,” I whisper as Karl conveniently turns up the volume on the radio. “Just as soon as we got to my house.”

  Jonah looks out of the window on his side. “I know.”

  It’s at times like this I resent his ability to read my emotions when I have to fight to figure out what he’s feeling. His face is neutral, his body fairly relaxed. But I know he can’t be happy about this. “He thinks it’ll help,” I whisper.

  “He can think that,” Jonah says, so softly that I can’t even be sure these are the right words.

  Kellan is already at the beach in his wetsuit, sitting in the sand and staring at the ocean. It’s bitterly cold outside; just to stay moderately warm, I’m forced to wear a knit hat and gloves as well as Jonah’s wool pea coat and my Uggs. I sit down next to him in the sand and together we watch the waves crash in front of us.

  After a long while, he murmurs, “So.”

  “So,” I repeat just as quietly.

  Sand shifts through his fingers. “I’ve been really angry at you and Jonah for a while now.”

  “You have every right to be angry at me,” I say, even though it hurts to hear this. “But please—don’t be mad at Jonah. He’s not at fault for any of this, and you know it.”

  “Oh, Chloe,” Kellan says, laughing softly. “Don’t you understand? He had every opportunity for a year to tell me what was going on, and he didn’t. So yeah, I have every right to be mad at him, too.”

  I sigh and pull my knees up under my chin. Rehashing the bad choices Jonah and I made will do none of us any good. I’m here to listen, the little voice sternly reminds me, to answer what Kellan asks, and to accept what he has to give, even if it ends up being nothing.

  It takes him another few minutes to continue. “You know about Callie, right?”

  I nod warily.

  “I watched him with her for years. Until a few months ago, I’d thought I knew what Jonah was like with someone he loves. But . . . what he feels for you . . . .” More sand trickles through his fingers. “Let’s just say that I am very clear on what you two mean to each other. You are the most important person in his life, and not in just a typical high-school-crush sort of way, either. So, believe me when I say I get that. What I don’t get is how I can’t seem to let go of the feelings I have for you. But I’m trying, I want you to know that.”

  It’s impossible to feel worse at this moment. I apologize, but he cuts me off. “I know, and to be fair, you’ve been pretty upfront about your feelings ever since you and Jonah got back together. I know it’s not like you two did this to hurt me.” He scoops big chunks of sand up in both hands and squeezes. “But . . . I thought that, given time, I’d move on. And it’s not happening, not like I want it to. So . . . I think maybe once we get to Annar, it’d be best if we just weren’t around each other anymore. It’s a little hard in high school, but maybe there, with you two on track for Council, and me for the Guard, there’s more room for space.”

  I drop my head onto my knees so I don’t have to watch him tell me this. “
You know I have to work with the Guard, too.”

  “I know. But it’s logical that you’ll be paired up with Jonah.”

  The little voice in the back of my mind is relieved. I’m not, though. I’m devastated by such a request. But I know I have to give this to him, because he’s asking, and because I love him enough to give him what he wants and needs. And if he needs me gone, if he wants the distance . . . I’d hoped we’d be friends. I hoped I could have that small bit.

  “Can I ask you one thing, though?” he says.

  I don’t look up, because breaking down while Giuliana is watching from her car in the parking lot would be a very bad thing. I’ve been around the Guard enough to know that this bit of juicy gossip would spread like wildfire within twenty-four hours. I mumble miserably, “Sure.”

  “Is there anything left that you might have once felt for me? A part that belonged to me, if it ever did really exist?”

  I’ve also been around two Emotionals long enough to know that he knows exactly how I’m feeling at the moment, and whether or not I still love him. He knows I do. I don’t get why he wants to hear it, though. Maybe to torture me . . . ?

  Sometimes words are nice, the little voice begrudgingly offers. Words are tangible things to hold onto, even when a person is long gone.

  “You know there is,” I finally tell him.

  We sit in uncomfortable silence for another few minutes, Kellan continuing to sift sand slowly through his fingers, me gripping onto my knees in an effort to stay sane. When I can’t handle the hush any longer, I ask, in an effort to shift the conversation toward something not so painful, “Are you looking forward to Ascending in a few days on your birthday?”

  He offers a humorless laugh. “I guess.”

  I roll my head to the side so I can see him. “Jonah won’t let me get him a present. He says you guys never celebrate your birthday.”

  “It’s hard to celebrate a day like that.”

  “Your birthday?”