Changing Fate (3 page)

I see Kyler at school a couple times the next day, but he doesn’t pay much attention to me. Every time I hear his voice, I strain my ears to listen. The soft tones run together like smooth cream. I close my eyes and feel the hope of a brighter future take me down the streets of Paris where I can enjoy a cool drink and admire the arches of the Sainte-Chapelle.

Yes,
now those thoughts usually include him. It’s hard not to think of him next to me, teaching me the history of French art, or something about their culture. Every time I open my eyes, though, he’s busy with different things—meaning real friends and super awesome hobbies that don’t involve me. I wish I could sing, but no amount of wishing could change my monotonous voice. Another trait I inherited from my mom.

M
y new nebulizer meds seem to help me breathe a little better. Still, Mom constantly reminds me to wash my hands, use tissues when I can, and sanitize…everything. It’s second nature to me, but maybe she doesn’t understand that. Or maybe she’s just worried. I think she worries almost as much as I do. She’s the only person in my life, and since my grandparents passed away, I’m the only one in hers.

Things are slow at lunch with Vivian. Apparently, her streak of bullying the new kids came to an abrupt end after Max, the math whiz. After he refused to help Vivian get back at me, he spent the rest of the week assuring me that he wasn’t even tempted to join her group.

By Friday, I can’t stand to hear his Vivian story anymore. He sits next to me in statistics and starts a conversation just like every other day.

“How’s it goin’, Kate?”

I force myself to acknowledge his greeting with a nod of my head and a dart in my mind. “It’s fine.” And will continue to be fine if he doesn’t bring up Vivian again.

“Do you know of any new kids coming soon?”

I clench my hands and think of several karate moves that could make him shut up. After a deep breath and an imaginary karate session, I offer a fake smile. “Contrary to what you may think, Max, I don’t sneak into the office to find out when a new kid is coming. I just happened to meet you the day after I moved in. I knew Vivian was going to bother you, so I waited. I didn’t expect her to ask for your help and I didn’t think you’d be so quick to refuse.”

He flinches. “You thought I’d help her get back at you?”

I scream in my head and fight a sudden urge to glare at him. “No. I didn’t even think she was smart enough to come up with a plan like that. Honestly, anyone who has to bully to feel better about themselves has much bigger problems.”

“So…what you’re saying is that Vivian has some personal problems.”

By this point there’s no hiding my annoyance. My face feels flushed and I consider leaving class. “I don’t care what problems she has. And I don’t care what she’s planning next. In fact, I’d like to never hear her name again.”

Max stares at me like he doesn’t know what else to talk about.
I clench my fists and let my gaze wander. The teacher approaches Kyler and they have a quick conversation. I’d give my best darts to know what they’re saying. When they finish, Kyler stands up, walks toward me, and turns to face Max.

“The teacher wants us to switch seats.”

Max leans back and I can see the panic in his eyes. “Why?”

“He needs you to help those kids over there,” he says, pointing across the room.

Max grins and I know Kyler has said the right thing. Whether that’s what the teacher really wanted or not, Max believes it and seems pleased. He grabs his stuff and turns to me. “I’ll see ya around, Kate. If this guy bothers you, let me know.” He takes a few steps and pauses. “And if you ever need help with your math, I’m always available.”

I wave him away with an encouraging smile. My shoulders fall and I hunch over my desk.

“That bad, huh?”

I rub my temples and let Kyler’s voice sooth
e away some of the anger. “You have no idea. Remind me to stay away from the cafeteria whenever there’s a new student.”

Kyler laughs and I breathe a little easier. “Just can’t help yourself,” he says. “You have to save the day if given the chance.”

I sit up and face him. “It’s not about saving anything. It’s about showing bullies you don’t need to push people around to be tough.”

“Vivian will never forget that now, thanks to you.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’s over it. Luckily, I don’t think Charlie is. She might have to find a replacement. And no, Max won’t do it. She already tried. Too bad.”

“You want him to help her?”

I look into his eyes and suppress the urge to glance at his lips. “I don’t want anyone to help her. I’d love for him to leave me alone though.”

Kyler tilts his head and taps his pencil on the desktop. I want him to say something, to listen to hi
m talk and know what’s going on in his head. Suddenly I wonder why the teacher hasn’t started class. The surrounding voices mix together and Kyler’s gaze starts to make me sweat.

Finally, he says, “You seem to want everyone to leave you alone.”

A knot forms in my throat. Why would he say that? His words are deep, and thoughtful, and rub me the wrong way. Of all the people I’ve pushed away, it’s never been him—which means he’s noticed my actions and might think he’ll be shoved aside as well. As much as I love knowing that he pays attention, it also makes me nervous to think about what might come next. Does he want me to let him in, to be friends and to make a connection? A shiver shoots up my spine as I think of the jump it’ll take to get over my emotional wall.

Even though I’ve started to climb that wall with Giana, I’m not sure I’m ready for more yet. But I should be. I mean, it’s Kyler, his voice alone is worth the jump.  

Before I can say anything, the teacher finally starts class and I look at Kyler one last time. Our eyes lock and I just hope my eyes say the things I can’t get my tongue to speak. Like how much I want to smash that wall just to know I might mean something to him. He stares back and the air between us becomes charged with something that wakes up the life within me. Fluttering wings rush through my stomach while my heart stomps each beat. It’s so hard to breathe; I think for a second that maybe my CF has taken over my lungs. 

  When Kyler looks away, I fi
ll my chest with air. My insides settle down but a burning feeling continues to creep up my neck, seeping into my face. I close my eyes and inhale slowly. As much as I want to push this feeling away, I’m afraid if I do, I’ll never feel it again.

* * *

I look for Giana at lunch, but she’s not there. We’ve eaten at the same table for the last few days and she’s been more than happy to let Max sit with us. I’m beginning to think she’s happy about everything. Max might not ever get on her nerves, but I wait for him to find a different seat before I sit down at a table of my own. I reach into my backpack and grab my pill box.

“Can I sit next to you?”

I drop the box and straighten up to find Kyler ready to sit in the chair beside me. A knot forms in my throat, trapping my air. I glance at my backpack as my mouth turns dry. “Sure,” I say.

He pulls a lunch from his backpack and sets it on the speckled table. “We never finished our conversation earlier. I was going to ask if you’re going to the party tonight.”

He’s going too? First he finds me in the crowd at the assembly, then he sits at my table, and now he wants to know if I’m going to the party? This might be too much, too fast. I’m not sure I can handle being around so many unfamiliar faces. It’s hard enough thinking about it. Maybe I could fake a sickness. “Are you sure it’s the same one?”

“Giana said she invited you.”

“Where is she?” I ask, hoping to change the topic.

“
At the dentist.”

I think I remember her telling me about that. I guess I forgot it was today.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Kyler asks, taking another bite of his sandwich.

I stare at my food and try not to think about the consequences of skipping the enzymes with a meal. Maybe it won’t be so bad. The effects shouldn’t hit until long after the party tonight anyway. But is it worth keeping my CF a secret? If I’m going to make friends, they need to know
me
. All of me and all of my problems. They need to know what they’re getting into so they can decide to back out like Dad did.

But I don’t want Kyler to back away. Not yet. A curl bounces over his forehead and I crunch my teeth into my apple. Hopefully if I don’t eat too much, it won’t be so bad.

A few of Kyler’s friends join our table: an Asian boy with a plaid shirt and a blond kid in a wheelchair.

“Kate, this is David and Vic.”

I lift my hand in greeting.

“Guys,” he says. “Kate.”

“I like your hair,” Vic says.

A blush
spreads across my cheeks. “Thanks.” My gaze settles on his wheelchair for a brief moment. Of course, I’m curious if he’s had it his whole life or if it’s a temporary thing. Either way, it’s not something he can hide. And Kyler accepts him as a friend. I should just take my pills and tell him, but the thought makes me cringe. Maybe one day. Just not
this
day. 

I focus on my food and listen to their conversation. They’re talking about soccer players, or maybe basketball. Some kind of sport with goals and balls. Could be football. Since I can’t follow, I pretend I’m sitting in a cathedral, the organ music calming my soul while my eyes memorize each piece of stained glass. That is where I belong
: with my own thoughts in my own head.

* * *

After school I watch a documentary about French artisans while doing my nebulizer meds. Usually when I eat carbs without enzymes, my stomach aches a few days later, but my stomach has been seeking revenge all afternoon. I spent the better part of my last class in the bathroom and I seriously considered going home. 

Once I’m done breathing through the tube,
I switch that machine out for my percussion vest. The therapy helps settle my stomach a little, but Mom can still tell there’s something wrong at dinner.

“Don’t you have a party tonight?” she asks.

I swallow my pills and nod.

She puts her fork down with a frown. “Please don’t tell me you agreed to go just to make me happy.”

“No. I really want to go, I just don’t feel well.”

Mom’s stern look falls and the familiar worry lines crease her forehead. “Is it an infection?”

I shake my head. As much as I don’t want to tell her about skipping my enzymes, she’s going to drill me until it comes out anyway. “I didn’t take my meds with lunch.”

She purses her lips and waits for an explanation.

I press my hands to the table and wait an extra second. “Someone sat next to me at lunch and I didn’t want to explain it to him.”

Mom’s face turns a shade of red. “Him? Kate. This is your life. I thought you were okay with it.”

“I am. I just don’t want other people to push me away.”

“
You’re
the one who’s pushing.”

My legs tremble and I clear my throat to stop the
rising lump. “I’m trying not to. But it’s hard to get past the fact that they still might not accept me for who I am.”

Mom sighs. “They won’t do that.”

“But they might.”

Mom pinches the bridge of her nose. “If someone has a problem with the real you, they’re not worth having around. You have to stop thinking everyone will be like your dad. He wasn’t worth it.”

“Then how did you ever have me?”

Mom’s hand drops and her eyes narrow on mine. “Everyone makes mistakes. That was
one of mine. Don’t punish yourself for my problems.” She stops a beat, her eyes glisten. “
Please
, don’t hide the real you. People can be accepting but you have to give them a chance.”

First she wants me to make friends and now she wants me to just lay my personal secrets out on the table for them to judge me with? The
churning in my stomach gets worse and my appetite disappears. I stand up and walk around the table to kiss my mom on the head.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asks.

“No. I’ve got a party to get ready for.”

Giana shows up a little after eight o’ clock. I give Mom a quick hug and follow Giana to her four door sedan. The front bumper is dented and the red, chipped paint is faded along the edges.

“It’s not anything special,” Giana says as I settle into the passenger seat. “But it gets me from one place to another.”

I run my hands along my jeans. It took me almost an hour to decide what to wear. And it took me another hour to braid my hair loosely over one shoulder and add a touch of makeup. Applying mascara is so much harder with shaky hands. For some reason, I want to look just right. It might have something to do with Kyler being at the party. Or maybe I don’t want to appear frumpy, tired, and worn out.

Unfortunately, I think it’s both reasons.

“You okay?” Giana asks.

I swallow at nothing and clear my throat. A slight pain pinches my stomach and bubbles gurgle through me. “I think so.”

“You don’t look so good.”

Of course. Even when I try hard, it still doesn’t help much.

“I mean,” Giana says quickly. “It’s not that you look bad, you just don’t seem excited to go tonight.”

I shrug, not knowing how to respond. Excited wouldn’t be the right word. I’m looking forward to it, but between my upset stomach and fear of making friends, I
’m still reluctant about the whole thing. “What kind of party is this anyway? Will there be drinking? Dancing? How about movies and games?”

Giana gives a short laugh. “Maybe a little of each. But we’re not the rowdy type. Usually if there’s alcohol, it’s because someone spiked the drink to be funny. I’m not sure what Tammy has planned for tonight.”

“Do I know her?” I try to recall Giana’s friends, but none of them come to mind.

“She’s the skinny, tall one
who wears too much makeup and flirts with everyone.”

And…that didn’t help me at all.
Almost everyone is taller than me, wears more makeup, and flirts like normal conversation won’t ever capture a guy’s attention. “Maybe you can just point her out when we get there.”

“Which will be in a few seconds. Here’s her house.”

Giana pulls the car behind a line of vehicles and a rush of fear makes my pulse race. I open the car door and step onto the sidewalk to straighten my corduroy jacket. Giana leads the way to the front door and I glance back at the car, wondering if I could hide inside before someone notices I’m even here. I shake my head and clench my fists. I can do this. It’s nothing worse than facing any doctor with bad news. A bad infection should scare me worse than a group of teens.

Without knocking, we walk into the house
. A leather couch sits against the far wall in the front room with a grand piano in the middle. It’s too empty, quiet. I’d always imagined parties with pumping music, people talking, and lots of bodies that you have to push to get anywhere.

“Tammy?” Giana calls.

“We’re back here.”

We pass through the entry and walk by the kitchen to a family room tucked in the corner of the house. A bay window juts out the back and Kyler sits in front of it. The room smells like popcorn and I find the bowl being passed around as guys and girls fill their plastic cups.

My stomach growls and I check my pocket for my enzymes. They’re gone—stuck in the pocket of my last pair of pants. Missing a dose with one meal isn’t too bad, but twice in one day? Not good. I press my hand to my stomach as we move to the edge of the room. Kyler scoots over and pats the ground. “Come sit here,” he says to us.

A dark-haired girl with high cheekbones and bright red lipstick trails her fingers down the arm of the boy next to her
. She pats his hand with a giggle and turns to wave us in. “Now we can start,” she says.
That
must be Tammy.

Giana turns to me with a smile. “I told Tammy I’d help her out tonight so I’m going to sit close in case she needs anything. You want to sit by me or Kyler?”

There’s definitely not enough space by Tammy for the two of us. “I’ll sit by Kyler,” I tell her. On my way over, I try to avoid everyone’s gaze, focusing on the empty spot of beige carpet next to him. I kneel beside him and he moves closer. Suddenly, the room feels crowded. Heat radiates off my skin and I’m sure my face is as red as Tammy’s lips. I inhale and think of France. I imagine people sitting on their balconies, sipping their nightcaps and laughing, in casual conversation. It soothes the noise around me and calms the raging storm in my stomach. Mostly. More bubbles dance through my body and I hope they don’t plan on escaping anytime soon.

Talk about embarrassing.

“How about a game of truth or dare?” Tammy asks.

A few girls clap their hands and I try to catch Giana’s eyes. I thought she said this wasn’t going to be
that
type of party. She finally looks over at me and nods her head.

“Not tonig
ht,” she says. “Any other ideas?”

“Spin the bottle.” I
turn to find a girl that looks a lot like Vivian with pink hair.

“
That’s so old,” someone else calls out.

“What about just truth?” Kyler says. “Dares are stupid anyway.”

If he didn’t smell so yummy and sound so nice, I might have given him a cross punch to the nose just for the suggestion. Truth means that people will find out more about me. Truth means discovering secrets that are meant to stay hidden. Truth means opening up and connecting. I clench my teeth and hope that someone else has a better idea.

The silent room kills that hope.

Giana shrugs and I take that as her consent. She snaps her fingers and points to Tammy who stands up and shimmies her tight skirt down a little further. If the guys didn’t have their eyes on her before, they do now.

“Here’s how it’ll work. The person on your right will ask you a question and after you answer, you ask the person on your left something you’re dying to know.”

“And what if someone refuses to answer?” pink-haired girl calls out.

“Just lie about it and move on,” Kyler says.

He bumps fists with the guy on his other side and Tammy rolls her eyes. “No lying. Since we aren’t playing truth or dare, we’ll just say that if you don’t answer, you have to kiss someone in the room.”

More fist bumps
—even the girls join in this time. No one’s going to answer any questions now.

Tammy
giggles and tells everyone to settle down. “I’ll go first.”

I try to pay attention to her question and even more to the answer from the boy beside her
, but I don’t want to know anything about these people. Knowing things will make me care about them. Instead, I listen halfway and let my mind wander. Different words and phrases catch my attention, but they don’t stick. One boy gets up, crosses the floor, and plants a kiss on the mouth of a red-headed woman. I say “woman” because she’s got more chest than I could ever dream of. And she looks older, like she’s already in college. Her flushed cheeks and wet lips tell me that she liked the kiss.

The boy goes back to his seat, next to Kyler, and I tune back in. What if
Kyler doesn’t answer his question? Who’s he going to kiss? I lick my lips and taste a faint strawberry sweetness from my leftover lip gloss.

“Kyler, why don’t you drink?”

The room goes still. I think up to this point, the questions have been light and silly. This one weighs down the mood and gets everyone’s attention. Kyler stares at the floor, his thumbs twirling in circles as he bounces a leg. His mind is somewhere else. I know that look. I get it every time I think about something important: life, death, my dad leaving, my mom suffering.

I don’t want to know his answer. If it causes that kind of reaction, it can’t be good. Kyler snaps out of it. He smiles, turns to me
, and lifts a hand to my face.

I freeze. My lips part and my eyes focus on the single freckle spotting his upper lip. My next breath catches in my chest and I wait for him to close the distance. His thumb caresses my cheek and he exhales a soft, minty breath across my chin. My hands tremble under my weight and I lean forward.

The moment seems to last forever.

And then someone says, “Seriously? You just want some new girl action.”

Kyler’s face goes tight. He leans back and drops his hand. The moment is ruined. “Who says I don’t drink?” he asks.

I blink a few times and close my mouth. What was that? Was h
e really going to kiss me? The guy who asked the question hits Kyler on the shoulder. “Go take a sip of that punch on the table then.”

“Jack spiked it.”

“Hah! See. You don’t drink. Now I want to know why.”

Kyler grips the guy’s shoulder and
chuckles. “Because someone has to take care of all you losers when
you
do.”

The guy shrugs out of Kyler’s reach and ends his turn.

Before Kyler can see the frozen shock on my face, I turn away and gulp down some air. I won’t look at him. How can I? He was about to kiss me but he didn’t—like I’m not good enough. Not that I really want him to kiss me, it just would’ve been an interesting first kiss. But his thumb was so smooth on my skin. And his eyes roamed over my face like he was memorizing each angle.

“Kate.”

I lift my head and stare at the crown molding. Kyler leans closer but I refuse to look at him. His breath moves the loose hairs around my face and I slam my protective barrier into place. No emotions, no connections.

“Do you ever think about dying?”

The question lingers in the air. At first I think it might’ve been in my head, but all eyes are on me now. They wait for my response and I have to force myself to think of the question: the one thing that’s always on my mind. But if I admit that I do, then they might ask me why. And that’s something I won’t admit to anyone, let alone a group of strangers.

I stare ahead like a deer trapped by the beam of multiple headlights. But which way do I turn? Which path will lead me to safety? Give them a quick yes or avoid the question and make the most of my first kiss? I glance at the guys in the room. Of course Kyler would be my
top choice. But if I kiss him, I might not be able to stop. I turn to the boy on my left, lean close, and touch a light peck on his lips.

He pulls back and holds up a hand. “Whoa. What was that?”

A gasp from the other side of the room is followed by, “Vivian is going to flip.”

I whip my head around to see the pink-haired Vivian look-alike
gaping at me. I lean closer to Kyler and ask, “Who is that?”

Kyler’s arm touches mine and I
keep still. “That’s Vivian’s twin sister.”

“And who did I just kiss?”

Kyler’s mouth lifts on one side. “Vivian’s had a crush on Jack for two years.”

“Ugh.” I grab the end of my sleeve and rub the life out of my lips.

“That bad?” Kyler asks.

“Where’s the bathroom? I need to wash it off.” And get away from all the sudden attention.

Kyler stifles a laugh and points to a door past the kitchen, toward the front of the house.

“Thanks.” I stand up and flee to the bathroom. Once I make it inside, I lock the door and sink onto the toilet seat. Kyler was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. Instead he asked me a question I didn’t want to answer
. And since I didn’t want to give him what he denied me, I kissed some stranger who just
happened
to be connected with Vivian—blue-haired Vivian who has a twin with pink hair. I bet they had fun fighting over which colors they’d use.

Just as much fun as Vivian will have fighting over a boy I don’t even want. There aren’t enough darts in the world to keep her away from me. I know her wrath is coming.

I get up and wash my lips with the foamy hand soap. My stomach churns again and I think I’m going to be sick. Maybe Giana can take me home. Voices drift through the door and it sounds like the game is over. I walk out to find most of the group milling about the kitchen, stuffing chips and handfuls of candy in their mouths.

Jack stands next to the punch bowl and catches my attention with a crooked
grin. He lifts his drink and winks at me. I spin around and make my way to the empty couch. As long as I can stay invisible, I shouldn’t have to worry about making friends.

The leather couch is still warm from the last people who sat there. I lean into the stiff fabric and close my eyes.

“Are you germ free?” I blink my eyes open as Kyler sits next to me with a bottle of water in his hand.

“I hope so.”

He rests his head against the cushion and stares across the room. I wait for him to say something more. His question made me think of dying and I need his voice to remind me that I’m still alive. That there’s a place worth living for and his voice will take me there. “Sorry I asked that question,” he says.

A knot forms in my stomach and pushes against the pain already there. I scramble for something to lighten the mood. “Maybe I wanted to kiss Jack.”

Kyler lifts an eyebrow and looks sideways at me. “By your reaction, I doubt that very much.”