Maybe Fate: A Novel (New Adult Paranormal Romance) (2 page)

Probably.

Maybe.

My
roommate, Becky Rivera, was always giving me trouble about how
little interest I had in going out to parties or downtown to the
clubs. Then again, it was easy for someone like her—someone so
cheerful and funny who seemed to have not a worry in the world—to
have a good time.

Someone
who never worried about if they would have the money to just buy
lunch that week.

I
kicked up my pace, heading towards the tiny bakery that kept shop in
the campus commons. Leaves scattered across the ground, the October
weather pleasant against my fuzzy green sweatshirt.

The
gentle chatter of other students muffled the sounds of my boots.
There were a number of people killing time on their way between
classes.

I
was used to the bustle, and normally, it never got me to raise my
head. Walking with my chin down, focusing on my feet. That was my
default. Yet as I crossed the path towards the door of the small
bakery, I
felt
it.

A
chill went up my neck, as if I'd crossed over a wave of static in
the air. It was disconcerting, making my muscles tremble. Stumbling
clumsily, I caught myself on shaking legs.

What
the hell? What was that?
Flustered,
I fought briefly with the insatiable desire to look behind me. My
internal debate warned me not to turn around.

I
had to know. I
needed
to know what—or who—had just set my pulse racing.

This
is fight or flight, isn't it? Wait, why am I even thinking like
this? I'm in the middle of a crowded campus, what could be so
dangerous here?

Make
a decision, turn or keep walking! You look like an idiot just
standing here!

Swallowing,
I shot a quick glance over my shoulder. Not knowing what I expected
to find, I skimmed my gaze over the milling people.

And
then I saw him.

Maybe
he shouldn't have stood out, maybe I was being paranoid. But there
was just something...
off
about the young man who was perched on the stone wall lining the
circular commons area.

He
was only a few yards away, blatantly facing me with a brazen smile
plastered on his sharp face. Sunglasses hid his eyes, yet I was
positive he was staring at me. It was as if I could feel it deep in
my bones.

My
skin prickled, reddish hair whipping as I spun back around.
Shit.
Don't look at him. Hold on, why does it matter if I look at him?

Having
never been the object of such overt attention, or at least, that I
knew of, I had no clue how to react.

Sweating
down my neck, I deferred on the side of auto-pilot and made myself
stroll into the bakery.

When
the door jingled shut behind me, I breathed out in relief.
What
the hell was that about? Who was that? Who just stares at someone? I
guess... I guess it isn't that weird... No, no it definitely WAS
weird. Guys don't stare at ME.

I'd
never considered myself a pretty girl. Short, boring, never mind a
mess of red hair that hated to be told what to do.

I
certainly wasn't winning any beauty contests.

Cutting
through the fog of self-deprecation, I was startled by the loud
shout of the man behind the counter. “Gale! Right on time! Got
your bag right over here.”

Looking
up, my smile bloomed helplessly. Seeing the large baker, Josef,
beaming my way with his massive arms hoisting my sack of stale
bread; it returned a feeling of comfort to my world.

Smoothing
my frizzy strands, I moved over to meet him. “Hey Josef,
thanks again for this.”

“
Not
a problem,” he chuckled, handing me the big paper bag. “It'd
get thrown out anyway. Someone's gotta feed the birds.”

Hesitating,
I flashed him a weak smile. “Yeah. Yeah, right. Anyway,
thanks, I should get going.”

“
Stop
in and grab a coffee sometime,” he chirped, hurrying to help a
young girl at the counter. “Maybe someday you can tell me
about how much them birds love my bread!” His laugh echoed
behind me as I retreated to the door.

I
couldn't handle telling him that the bread wasn't just for the
sparrows in the park.

Above
me, the bell gave a ring as I swept into the cool air. It felt good
on my warm cheeks, especially when I saw the stranger still sitting
at his post.

His
glasses shimmered in the red ball of the setting sun, but his grin
was brightest of all.

Unsettled,
I slipped around the bakery, legs taking long strides to lengthen
the distance between myself and him.

Maybe
he's waiting for someone else, and I'm just being crazy.

Inside,
my gut knew that was wrong.

The
crowd of students lessened as I approached the expanse of greenery
that was the park by my college. I spotted someone jogging here or
there, some kids were sprawled out on the hills, but otherwise it
was much quieter than the commons.

Dropping
onto a bench, still on edge, I dug into the bread bag. It wasn't
long before birds were gathering at my feet, even before I'd tossed
a crumb.

They'd
gotten used to me over the past few weeks.

What
had started as my attempt to sneak food and avoid being hungry on my
zero spending budget, became a weird ritual where I shared my haul
with the sparrows.

Munching
on a slice, not caring about the mildly firm texture, I sighed.

I
wished I could tell Josef his bread was good, even when stale. But I
couldn't handle that shame, watching his face when I revealed I'd
been the one eating the old rolls and buns.

Being
essentially destitute was rough, but I didn't dare complain. My
mother could only do so much on her own, after all.

It
was more than enough that she was paying to send me to school,
something I had insisted against. That hadn't stopped her from
sitting me down one day, guiding me through the process of applying
for college.

The
best I could do was get her to let me pick the most affordable one;
Endicott, a place that was only a few hours from her.

I
hated the idea of my mother living alone.

Crumbling
a slice of rye, I smiled at the little birds bouncing on the strip
of pavement in front of me. With the sun setting, it was
picturesque.

The
nape of my neck went stiff. Shifting, I looked out of the corner of
my eye. There, sitting on the other bench some feet away, was my
stalker.

He's
certainly a stalker, now. What the hell does this guy want? Maybe
he's a student—wait, it doesn't matter if he's a student. The
creep is still following me around!

Covertly,
I looked him up and down. He did seem young enough to be going to
the College; at least a freshman like myself, if not a sophomore. He
was still wearing sunglasses, even as the sun set. The long shadow
he cast, even sitting, made it clear he was almost as tall as Mr.
Birch.

In
the reddish hue of the fading day, the young man's light blonde hair
was turning orange. Nothing seemed overtly out of the ordinary about
him. Even his clothes were just dark slacks, a crisp white button
down.

No
jacket, though. That's a little odd, seeing how cold it's going to
get as it gets later.

Even
in my sweater, I felt the chilly fingers of the Autumn wind
arriving.

Frustrated
by how he was still just sitting there, smiling off into the air at
no one, I bit the inside of my cheek.
Maybe
he isn't following me. It's possible. I need to figure it out, I'll
just walk a bit more and see what he does.

Inhaling
deeply, my knees creaked when I stood. The birds, startled by me,
exploded off into the air with bitter chirps at the feast being
over.

Clutching
the bag of leftover bread tight under one arm, my backpack slung
over my other shoulder, I walked further down the cobbled path.

My
legs felt heavy, wooden. I was positive I wasn't wrong. If intuition
was useful at all, mine was buzzing with warning over the entire
situation.

But
I needed to be sure. I didn't like making decisions without being
sure, completely sure, that my hunches were right.

I
was almost as scared of looking like an idiot as I was of any real
danger.

Under
my faded blue boots leaves crunched loudly. The sky had started
shifting to pink, people were fleeing the park.

A
brisk wind tickled my long hair, giving me an excuse to brush it
behind my ear.
Now,
I'll just peek back and see where he is.

Twisting,
trying to be casual, I glanced towards the benches. My temples were
pounding from adrenaline, the intensity of everything winding me up
like a yo-yo.

Looking
at where he should have been—where I expected him to be—I
found him, instead, standing only a few feet away.

Oh,
shit!

Stunned
to discover him so close, so blatantly staring me down behind glossy
glasses with his wicked smile, I gasped out loud.

The
audacity of this jerk! He isn't even bothering to hide what he's
doing!

Crunching
the bread against me, I went along with the flicker of angry
disbelief coiling inside. “What the hell are you doing?”
The words were hot, tart on my tongue.

He
didn't even flinch.

With
a politeness I wasn't prepared for, he tilted his head and answered.
“Ah. Sorry, but what do you mean?”

Crinkling
my eyebrows, I spread my feet and faced him fully. “What do I
mean? You've been following me since back at the commons!”

“
Have
I?” Scratching at his cheek with one elegant finger, his smile
vanished. “No. Not quite.”

“
Yes!
Yes, you have!” Raising my voice, I gestured with the bag of
bread violently. “I saw you sitting on the wall! Don't lie to
me!”

That
smile returned, fading in gently like smoke on a breeze. “You
misunderstand. I only meant that it wasn't since you spotted me that
I've been following you. It's been
much
longer than that.”

I
opened my mouth, then closed it.

Dammit
dammit dammit, this guy... this is dangerous, I just know it. Why
did I bother confronting him? Ugh, I hope I don't end up as a news
blurb tomorrow.

Working
around the numbness in my tongue, I slid one heel backwards. “I
swear, I'll scream.”
And
just hope someone hears me.
Too
terrified to take my eyes off of that pale face and check around, I
prayed there were still people in the park.

“
Scream?”
he asked, tucking his hands into his pockets. “What ever for?”

Hesitating,
I licked my lips. “Uh. Well. Aren't you—I mean, you just
admitted to stalking me around.”