Today was the worst day ever—which, in and of itself, was the understatement of the century. Why, you may ask?
Chloe was failing her math class and majorly bombed the Spanish test she'd studied a month for; the worst breakout she'd ever experienced outside of her period decided to pop up all over her face with flaky, itchy patches and zits all along her hairline; and she'd finally dyed and cut her pin-straight hair only to have the cut make her look about eight.
And, on top of that steaming pile, she'd found her soulmate, her other half, the "love of her life." Etc, etc. Insert cheesy, rom-com love at first sight clip. Most people still looking for their soulmate would be ecstatic, over the moon, but most people weren't Chloe and her soulmate.
Derek Souza was Lyle Academy's—a snooty, rich-kid private school with an amazing theatre department—enigmatic, douchey linebacker. Not because he was a football player but because he was just an antisocial asshole. He threw puppies out of vans and pushed the elderly into traffic for fun.
As she walked down the hallway, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Derek's head, towering over all the other kids, weaving very quickly through the crowd.
She chewed her lip.
In order to escape Miranda—who was angry about some Facebook post Chloe had made that she didn't agree with like some sort of Karen—Chloe had run the other way, hiding from her friend behind a cluster of students before bumping hard into a mountain of a guy. A hand on her arm stopped her from falling to the ground and it felt like everything stopped.
The sound of conversation disappeared. Time slowed down. A fever ran through her, spreading from the point where the hand gripped her arm tight enough it almost hurt.
She took in the hand gripped her, the thick wrist, and the holey sleeve of a well-worn black army jacket stretched thin with well-rounded muscles and a broad shoulder. Past the shoulder was a jaw covered in thin, patchy stubble, a few pieces of long, black hair falling across the jaw. She looked up, higher, into the blazing green eyes of Derek Souza.
Her voice left her, her breath escaping her.
"Wha…" she started to squeak, her voice thin and high, reedy.
That seemed to jolt him.
His eyes went wide, nostrils flaring, as he reared back, dropping her arm so fast she stumbled back. The crowed parted like the Red Sea behind him as he stared at her, his expression equal parts thunderstruck and horrified. It would've been amusing if it hadn't been so mortifying, so humiliating, to see him look at her like that.
He'd turned and all but ran away, leaving her standing stock still, her feet glued.
It took a locker slamming to shock her into running away, her face burning.
Her soulmate was her best friends' brother. And he couldn't stand her.
"Chloe! Over here, girly!"
Chloe looked up to find Nate Bozian wading his way through the crowd, a strained smile on his face that looked more like a grimace.
With how fast rumors and drama spread in this school, she knew immediately he'd heard about the soulmate fiasco.
"Hey," she said past the lump in her throat, proud of how steady and normal her voice came out, like she wasn't on the verge of a breakdown.
Nate's smile tightened, his eyes crinkling at the corners, as he searched her face, too polite to broach the topic, so she brought it up herself.
"If you heard the rumor about Derek, yeah, it's true."
And she watched as his expression shifted, forgoing politeness in favor of horror, pity, and anger. It made the knife in her stomach twist harder and dig deeper. "Under normal circumstances," he said, "I'd say congrats, but you're stuck with such a rude asshole. Are you serious?"
His voice was loud and carried over the crowd.
She laughed, unable to stop herself, and out of the corner of her eye she saw a dark-haired head turn slightly towards them. And by the way Nate was scowling, she knew he saw Derek too. Part of her wanted to turn her head and meet his gaze but another part—far bigger and more dominant than the angry part of her, the one who's pride was bruised and full of anxiety—kept her facing Nate, pretending Derek wasn't there.
"It'll be fine." Even as she said that, she herself didn't believe a single word but it was all she had right now.
"If he hurts you…"
The idea of a Derek vs Nate situation made Chloe feel uneasy. She had a sinking feeling Derek would win hands-down.
"He won't. I promise." She tried to give Nate a reassuring smile but it came out more of a grimace, despite her efforts. He'd made it clear he hates her so why would he ever try anything?
Despite obviously not believing her words, Nate relaxed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, heading to their next class.
Against her better judgement, she peeked over her shoulder to find Derek walking the opposite way and hated how a part of her was bothered he wasn't looking.
During third period lit, she went to the bathroom to double-checks she hadn't bled through her yoga pants and stared at her hopeless reflection, trying to finger-comb through her wind-swept hair and splashed some water to try and bring the redness out of her face.
She mused that maybe the events of today were a nightmare as she washed her hands, noticing her manicure had already began to chip, and heard the bathroom door creak open.
A light-skinned black girl walked around the corner, her dark box braids pulled back into a ponytail, and Chloe realized it was Rae. She opened her mouth to say something but Rae beat her to it.
"Is it true?" she asked, her eyes laser-focused on Chloe.
Heat rushed into Chloe's face as she ripped off some paper towel from the working towel dispenser and focused on drying her hands with exaggerated slowness.
Rae leaned against the sink, watching her as she fiddled with the purse at her hip.
"Yeah," the strawberry-blonde said finally and pulled her lips tight against her teeth.
Rae's expression changed instantaneously, going from curiosity to chock and horror. Without a word, she crossed the distance between them and threw her arms around Chloe. "Oh my god! That's so horrible. I didn't believe—I can't believe you're stuck with him."
"I know. He probably won't ever talk to me. Maybe that'll work, right? Besides just because we're soulmates doesn't mean we have to be Bound."
The averted state of her eyes told Chloe everything she needed to know, and she inhaled sharply, feeling it tremble into her lungs and sit there. The unfairness of it all crashed down on her, made her eyes burn with the threat of tears.
"It'll be okay," she said to herself, fixing her face in a neutral expression so as not to worry Rae. "It'll be fine." She said it louder, in an upbeat, chipper voice to Rae.
Rae didn't look convinced.