Fate. A predetermined supernatural power. The will of the universe. Fate is order. It writes, and rewrites, gives and takes. It spins vibrant red strings that flow into the world and connect people who are destined to meet, to love, to share a story...
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Amari's been acting all distant and shit. It's lunch break, and she asked us if we wanted to step out of class for a bit and get some air, but now that we're actually out on the grounds, she hasn't uttered a word. "Take a walk with me?" she'd asked, with a thin voice and a wan smile, making it a million times harder than it usually is to say no, which is no doubt why the nerd is out here too.
And after all of that, she's walking ten paces ahead of us, staring mutely into space. Nobody who saw us from afar would think we were here together.
Seeing her like this is fucking weird.
A feeling of growing uneasiness stirs in my stomach. I exchange a restless glance with the nerd. He's anxiously biting his lip, throwing pointed looks at Amari. Fuck, should I ask her what's up? Would this be a good time? How should I do it?
Hey. Amari. What's going on with you? What happened? Tell me what happened. Did something happen? Why did you cry?
Fuck it.
"Ama—"
"Blasty!"
My feet come to a sudden halt at the sound of that word, a chill tearing down my spine. I whirl, ignoring the nerd's questioning looks, and scan my surroundings until my eyes zero in on two figures waddling over to me—tousled hair and lousily put together uniforms, lips spread in equally wide smirks. Their faces register as vaguely familiar, but the crests on their shirts say they don't go here.
"It really is you, man! That face of yours really takes me back," the guy with the dark hair and narrow eyes exclaims, bringing his hand down on my shoulder. I feel myself go rigid under his sweaty palm. "Been wearing a tie these days? I won't lie, it's not a good look on you, dude," he jeers.
Amari is watching us now, her eyes wide with worry. She looks ready to head over at any second. Fuck. "I don't know you," I glower.
"Sure you do! We were buddies in middle school!" he says, not so much patting as whacking me over the arm, annoyingly bubbly. Like hell we were. I feel my nails grinding into my palm as I bite down on a barrage of curses. Don't. "I don't know you," I repeat through gritted teeth.
He releases me at that, his face distorting in a mild scowl. "You—"
"We have to get back to class," the nerd suddenly says, fingers circling my wrist, his voice clipped and even. "So if you'll excuse us—"
The guy laughs sharply, wrenching my arm out of the nerd's grip. "Whoa, not so fast, buddy; we're not done here." His lips twist in a foul smile. "This touching reunion is just beginning."
I don't know what the fuck this punk wants with me, but right now, it's taking everything, everything to hold myself back from letting my fist do all the talking.
"He said he doesn't know you." Amari is at my side now, fingers tightly clutching at the sleeve of my arm as she tries to stare him down. "L-Leave him alone."
