Defy Fate: Fated Duet: Book One

by Davies, Abigail

“Have a good day,” Sal said in his usual gruff tone.

  I nodded as my feet hit the gravel. “Okay.” I turned around. “I’ll probably go see how Belle’s first day was after school.”

  Mom grinned. “I had a feeling you might. See you tomorrow morning, hunnybun.”

  I rolled my eyes at her nickname and slammed the door shut. My gaze was set on Hope as she tried to make herself one with the wall. She didn’t want to draw attention to her ink-black hair and pale face. She wasn’t a goth, but she naturally looked like one. I thought she resembled more of a grunge Snow White, but she was adamant she was more Wednesday Addams.

  The lot was filling with cars now that Sal and Mom had pulled out, and by the time I got to Hope, the loudness sounded more like a party—not that I had ever been invited to a high school party.

  “And so it begins,” Hope said, not looking at me but staring at something in the lot.

  I tried to see what she was looking at, but I didn’t have to wait long. The football players were surrounded by cheerleaders, all in their uniforms to start the year off with a bang. Football season would take over everything for the next few months.

  “I have a feeling this year will be different,” I murmured, trying to believe the words as they came out of my mouth.

  Hope raised her brows and stared at me like I’d lost my mind. And maybe I had. “Jesus, Aria. Is that why you wore your rainbow T-shirt?”

  I shrugged. “Gotta think positive, right?”

  She snorted and pushed off the wall. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”

  We walked side by side, trying to be as invisible as possible, but as soon as we neared the footballers and cheerleaders, we realized it wasn’t going to happen.

  “Hey, look! It’s Ghost and Carrot leading the way through the darkness.”

  I wasn’t sure which one of them said it, but I had an inkling it was Harry—named after the Prince of England. He didn’t have ginger hair, but I was sure he was working an early serving bald patch. Served him right for being such a huge douche.

  “Forty-nine seconds,” I announced to Hope as we walked up the steps and through the double doors. “It lasted forty-nine seconds.”

  “New record?” she asked, gripping her backpack like it was a shield against all the looks burning our backs.

  “Yep.”

  We made it into the senior hall and to our lockers—just our luck, our lockers were on opposite ends. I wasn’t sure how they worked out who went where, but if it were alphabetical, that would mean…

  “Great, I’m next to her,” a bitchy voice said.

  I closed my eyes, took a breath, and gripped the lock in my hand. It was only a combination of three numbers, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember what they were, not with Jasmine standing next to me.

  “Jasmine,” I greeted, my voice cracking halfway through the one word. I glanced at her, taking in the perfectly curled blond hair and face of impeccable makeup. She didn’t even look like a high school senior. More like a twenty-five-year-old woman who was going out for the night.

  Jasmine lifted her lip into a sneer and stepped toward her locker, shoulder barging me at the same time. A few echoes of laughter followed her move, causing my cheeks to burn. It looked more like a sunburn than an actual blush—another downside to having my hair color.

  My fingers slid from around the unopened lock. I didn’t even need to put anything in there, not yet anyway. Hope’s black hair stood out in the crowd as she made her way back to me, and I decided to forgo the locker and head straight to class instead.

  I ignored the comments from Jasmine’s little cheerleading minions as I stepped past them and walked toward Hope. “I don’t know why we always end up so far apart,” Hope whined when we met in the middle of the hallway. We both shuffled off to the side, knowing we now had to go in opposite directions. We’d studied each other’s schedules last night, and the only class we had together was PE on Friday afternoons—a subject Hope hated with a passion.

  “Because the world is out to get us,” I said sarcastically, but part of me wondered why fate had chosen to throw the things at me that it had. Why couldn’t I have been one of the popular girls? It was day one of the school year, and I already wanted to go home and get back into my nice, comfy bed.

  Hope nodded, agreeing with me, and then laughed. “Ugh. I hate school.”

  “Feeling’s mutual.” I gazed around the senior hall, taking in all the greetings between friends who hadn’t seen each other over summer. I was glad Hope and I had managed to at least spend a few days together, plus our constant text messages.

  “Meet you at lunch?” she asked, already stepping away from me to head to her first class.

  “Yep. Bleachers?”

  “You got it.”

  We both nodded at each other, a silent, “good luck” of sorts, and headed off. My first class was AP English and went by like a breeze, along with chemistry, my second class. My third classroom was next to my locker, and I finally had salvation from the heavy books from my first two classes. At least this time, Jasmine was nowhere to be seen as I opened up my locker and stacked the books onto the top shelf.

  The hallway was nearly empty by the time I managed to click the lock on my locker. Harry—the football player—was the first person I saw when I entered the classroom, and if his smirk was anything to go by, he’d spotted me too.

  The layout of the room was pretty standard: five rows with five desks, jocks at the back, nerds at the front. There were only two seats left, and luckily for me, one of them was in a perfect position. I always headed for a middle-of-the-row seat: far enough away from the people in the back but not too close to the front—the invisible seats.

  I settled into the third seat back on the second row in, closer to the teacher’s desk than I liked, but it was either this or be one desk in front of Harry.

  The teacher wasn’t here yet which meant most of the students were being as loud as they could be, but as I dipped down to pull my notebook and pen out of my bag, it quieted to an eerie silence. There had been murmurings of a new teacher during my last class, but no one had mentioned their name. I just hoped it wasn’t—

  “Good morning, students.”

  My eyes widened, and my breath stuttered in my chest. That voice. It was a voice I would never forget, not since the first time I heard it when I was eight years old. The timbre was deeper than it had been back then, but the tone was the exact same.

  It couldn’t be.

  How could he be here? In my world history class of all places. No one had told me he was back.

  “I’ll check attendance, and then we’ll go over the schedule for this semester.”

  My lungs struggled to pull in air, but as soon as I looked to the front of the class, it whooshed out of me. My first ever crush stood front and center. A crush I had been sure was love when I was a little girl. I knew the difference now, but that didn’t stop my body’s reaction.

  I tried to halt the memories flashing through my brain, but the first time he’d touched me was on repeat. I’d known him six months before the worst night of my life happened, but it had been the first time he’d held me and promised to make it all better. He'd had a true glimpse of what my life had been like up to that point, but he didn’t really know.

  None of them truly knew.

  Chapter Two

  CADE

  I hadn’t always wanted to be a teacher.

  When I was a teenager, I was sure I would be a professional athlete. I probably could have if I had wanted it bad enough—if I’d have applied myself and worked toward one goal. But I hadn’t. I hadn’t wanted anything enough to go in one clear direction. I’d been floating through each day, angry at the world and what it had served me with. But the day I coached some kids while in my freshman year of college, I knew what I was meant to do.

  Community outreach had been a requirement of being part of the lacrosse college team, and it was there I realized I wanted to coach kids. I want
ed to be a driving force to the kids who had a dream of being an athlete—show them they could be that even if they thought they couldn’t. I wanted to help them become exactly who they wanted to be.

  Becoming a teacher was simply a perk of being a coach because it meant I got the best of both worlds. A couple of classes a day in a shirt, tie, and slacks, and then I could spend the rest of my time in sweats, teaching PE and coaching the next generation of athletes.

  I’d built up contacts over my four years at college, and my plan had always been to stay there instead of moving back home. But my senior year, everything changed in the blink of an eye. One tragic event changed the course of my entire life. I’d tried to create a life for myself—tried to push everything out of my mind—but it hadn’t worked. Being constantly reminded of it every day wasn’t good for anyone.

  For three years, I’d tried my hardest to put it all behind me, but as soon as my stepmom, Lola, told me about a vacancy so close to home, I knew fate had stepped in to take me down a different path. I’d moved back home a week ago, and now I was ready to start fresh. I also got to spend more time with my little sister, Belle—PB as I liked to call her—and my little brother, Asher. My family was everything to me.

  More so now than ever…

  My introduction to teaching in the same school I’d attended as a student had come in the form of freshmen, but now I was in the big leagues. Senior class. One year until these kids would be off to college or looking for employment. I moved over to the desk and pulled out my laptop, feeling several sets of eyes burning through the side of my face. My lips wanted to curve up into a grin, but I held them down, remembering what it was like when a new teacher would start at school. Especially if that teacher was under the age of thirty.

  “I’ll call your name out, and I want you to raise your hand and tell me a fact about yourself.” I glanced up, not really taking in any of the faces, and then concentrated back on my screen. It felt a little like elementary school when teachers would call out students’ names every morning, but this would be a good icebreaker.

  “Lydia.”

  “Here,” a soft voice announced. She was in the front row, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, and glasses too big for her face. “I love math.”

  I nodded and smiled. “Nice to meet you, Lydia.”

  I went through the list, frowning when I got halfway. “Aria…” I blinked, sure I read it wrong. “Aria Sayer?” My voice was shaky, a little unsure of whether I’d said the words right, but I looked up anyway, expecting to see the little girl I used to know. There was no way she was a senior already…

  “Here.” My head snapped up at the tone that couldn’t be mistaken for anyone but the eight-year-old girl who had tried to nurse me back to health when I was sixteen. A girl who had sat by my side while her mom made us grilled cheese. A girl who now looked…like a woman.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off Aria. I couldn’t stop staring at her wavy red hair and the small button nose I knew would be covered with the splattering of freckles.

  Damn. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d seen her. Maybe five years ago? No, four years…

  Had she really changed that much?

  “I…I like to run.”

  I raised a brow, surprised by her answer. I hadn’t been expecting it to come out of her mouth, but that was exactly who Aria was—unexpected. At least, the Aria I remembered.

  I kept my gaze locked with hers for an extra second, trying to convey something I wasn’t sure of, and then moved on to the rest of the students. I wasn’t sure whether she’d want people to know that we knew each other, so I’d keep my mouth closed for now and teach the class in the same way I did any other time. By the time I’d gone through everyone’s names, and given them the rundown of what we’d be learning over the next semester, we only had five minutes left.

  “You can leave early for lunch,” I told them with a quick look at my watch. We weren’t meant to let classes out early, but these were seniors, most of them about to turn eighteen, so they could be trusted—I hoped.

  Cheers rang out, and I shook my head with a grin. It was hard getting used to the fact I was the teacher and not the student. I had a feeling I’d never quite get used to it. Inside, I’d always be the sixteen-year-old kid who loved lacrosse and any kind of competitive sport.

  Students filed out of the room as I closed my laptop and slid it into my bag, but I was hyperaware of Aria taking her time to leave the class. When I looked up, she was standing in the aisle, looking down at her hands and gnawing on her bottom lip.

  “Aria?” I called.

  “Cade—I mean…” She cleared her throat and stepped toward me, her gaze landing on mine. “Mr. Easton.” She shook her head and wrinkled up her nose. “That’s so freaking weird.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “It is when you’re saying it. Sounds like you’re talking about my dad.”

  She snorted and gripped the edges of her leather jacket, causing me to flick my gaze down to her T-shirt and the rainbow painted onto it. “Uncle Brody would kill me if I called him that.”

  My lips quirked on one side. My dad wasn’t really her uncle, but she’d taken to calling him that when she was ten and had to stay the night after Jan had broken her arm at the diner. Pretty sure that was the night Sal had finally told Jan how he felt about her.

  Things changed so fast, and I wondered how many things were now different. It wasn’t that I hadn’t visited, because I had. It was just…different because I hadn’t seen her.

  “How’s your mom?” I asked, trying to make small talk. I’d seen her mom on my last visit home, but that had been six months ago. The way her eyes stared at mine was the same as always—like she saw right through me.

  The bell rang out for lunch, but neither of us moved. “She’s good. Sal is practically living with us now.” She glanced away, staring out the wall of windows that looked out onto the field and track. “No one told me you were back.”

  I shrugged even though she couldn’t see it. “I didn’t know myself until a couple days back.”

  She nodded but didn’t say anything else. She was always good at that: internalizing everything she was thinking. Aria never said anything unless she meant it. She had always been an overthinker, whereas I spoke first and asked questions later, and the way she was talking and acting meant that hadn’t changed.

  There was a time I knew her better than anyone. Knew when she was sad and what she was sad about. Knew when she needed distracting or when she just wanted to talk. Most people wouldn’t have thought it normal for a sixteen-year-old to be so close to an eight-year-old, but they hadn’t been through what we had. They didn’t understand the darkness that surrounded our history.

  But I’d dropped her as soon as I started college. I’d forgotten all about Aria and what she’d been through, and I was only now realizing what a shit thing that was to do.

  “There you are!” I whipped my head toward the open door and frowned at the dark-haired girl. “Come on, Aria. We need out of these hallways—” The girl finally looked at me and stumbled back a step. “Crap. Sorry, sir, I didn’t realize—”

  “You’re fine,” I said, waving my hand and shouldering my bag. “Aria was just leaving.”

  Aria hesitated and then shook her head. She walked forward, stopping a couple of feet in front of me, and whispered, “I’m glad you’re home.”

  I swallowed against the lump in my throat and croaked out, “Me too.”

  Neither of us looked away for a couple of seconds, and then her lips lifted into a small smile. A smile I hadn’t even known I’d missed until she flashed it my way. “Don’t think this gives you automatic Belle and Asher rights,” she warned with a raised brow. “I still get first dibs.”

  She sauntered out of the room, and it wasn’t until she was turning out of the doorway that I managed to say, “They’re my siblings, not yours.” And I realized that I sounded like a kid again. I’d only been around her for an hour, and
she was already bringing out the old Cade. The Cade who didn’t have a care in the world. The Cade who flew by the seat of his pants. That Cade had disappeared and I wasn’t sure whether I wanted him back or not. He was the old me, but also the me I craved to be again.

  Life had a way of throwing things at you, but surely there was a time when there was too much shit flung your way? They said things happened in threes, and that night, it was the exact number of people who had died. People who had their lives cut short.

  All because of me.

  If I hadn’t stepped in the car at that exact moment. If I hadn’t forgotten my wallet and had to go back inside to get it. If I had left only ten seconds later or ten seconds earlier…

  The world was full of what-ifs.

  What-ifs that kept me up at night.

  What-ifs that changed the way I thought.

  What-ifs that had changed my life.

  * * *

  CADE

  “Mom said you’re staying for good,” Belle said from beside me on the couch. I hadn’t moved from the time I walked in the door, and she’d accosted me to watch a horse cartoon with her.

  “I am,” I told her, shifting to the side and turning to face the living room door as Asher screamed from upstairs. The kid was only four, but he was full of sheer determination—he knew what he wanted, and he didn’t shy away from demanding it.

  Belle dipped her hand into the bowl of chips on her lap and stared up at me as she brought one to her mouth and crunched slowly. Lola would kill me if she knew I’d allowed Belle to eat junk food this close to bedtime, but big brothers were allowed to bend the rules for their little sisters.

  “And you’re a teacher now?”

  “Yep.” I grabbed a chip from the bowl and raised my hands in surrender when she narrowed her eyes at me.

  “You’re meant to ask, Cade,” Belle reprimanded, sounding more and more like the perfect mix of Lola and my dad.

  “May I have a chip?”

  Her screwed-up angry features relaxed back into the sweet girl she was half of the time. “You may.” She stared back at the TV, chowing down on her chips as the horse made a jump and everyone clapped. “I hate my teacher.”