Fated 1 by Noël Alyson

Author:Noël, Alyson [Noël, Alyson]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2012-05-21T21:00:00+00:00

twenty-six

The bell rings—again. That awful, shrill sound blaring through the hall, bouncing off the ugly beige walls and red metal lockers, sparking a stream of students into a flurry of movement, as I try my best to find my next classroom.

I pause by the door, schedule in hand, taking a moment to confirm I’m in the right place, since I really don’t need to make that particular mistake yet again.

Independent study. Right. Last class of the day—praise be, hallelujah, and more.

I make my way inside and introduce myself to the man at the podium bearing a squinty mean gaze, a cruel slash of a mouth, a size-too-small T-shirt forced to stretch over a belly that will always arrive well before the rest of him, and a crew cut so tight it’s mostly just scalp. Pausing when he places a red checkmark next to my name and tells me to grab any seat.

If I’ve learned anything today, it’s that it can’t be that easy. It may not be obvious at first sight, but somewhere in this deceptively innocuous classroom, territory has been staked, boundaries drawn, and an invisible wall erected, bearing an equally invisible sign that states clueless new girls like me are not welcome here.

“Any seat,” he barks, shooting me a look that’s already pegged me as just another moron in a succession of many.

I give the room a thorough once-over, noting how instead of the usual desks, it’s divided into a series of tall, square, black tables and old metal stools. All too aware of the way my fellow classmates track my movements, sighing with overblown relief when I pass them in favor of the back where I toss my bag onto a table, grab an empty stool, and ask, “This seat taken?” My eyes grazing over the only other occupant, a guy with long glossy dark hair with his head bent over a book.

“It’s all yours,” he says. And when he lifts his head and smiles, my heart just about leaps from my chest.

It’s the boy from my dreams.

The boy from the Rabbit Hole, the gas station, and the cave—sitting before me with those same amazing, icy-blue eyes, those same alluring lips I’ve kissed multiple times—but only in slumber, never in waking life.

I scold my heart to settle, but it doesn’t obey.

I admonish myself to sit, to act normal, casual—and I just barely succeed.

Stealing a series of surreptitous looks as I search through my backpack, taking in his square chin, wide generous lips, strong brow, defined cheekbones, and smooth brown skin—the exact same features as Cade.

“You’re the new girl, right?” He abandons his book, tilting his head in a way that causes his hair to stream over his shoulder, so glossy and inviting it takes all of my will not to lean across the table and touch it.

I nod in reply, or at least I think I do. I can’t be too sure. I’m too stricken by his gaze—the way it mirrors mine—trying to determine if he knows me, recognizes me, if he’s surprised to find me here.

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