The 13th: Destiny Awaits

The 13th: Destiny Awaits

by

Ela Lond

KINDLE EDITION

Copyright © 2013 Ela Lond

Ela Lond's website

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License Note:

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return
it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting author’s work.

For my beloved grandmother. May she rest in peace.

This book uses British spelling
.

Table of Contents:

1
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2
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3
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4
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5
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6
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7
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8
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9
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10
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11
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12
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13
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14
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15
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16
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17
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18
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19
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20
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21
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22
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23
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24
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25
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26
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27

Chapter 1

“Did you see that guy on Saturday? He was gorgeous.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you see who he was with? That dumbass. I saw her bow to the teacher again today. It was so funny.”

The last bit caught Kate's attention and she peeked over her shoulder at the girls standing a step away from her locker. She knew them: Sandra and her subjects. Sandra, the blonde girl, had broken the heart of Kate's neighbour, Tyler. Kate hadn’t liked her as Tyler's girlfriend and she liked her even less as his ex-girlfriend. They had to be talking about Mandy -- the new transfer student and Kate's new friend -- and her brother.

“You don't think it was her boyfriend, do you?”

“Hers? Not a chance.”

“Hasn't she hooked up with Tyler?”

“Yeah, that's right. She's another one of his charity cases, except he’s dating this one. I don't know what he's thinking.”

“At least he isn't dating the nutcase.”

They’re probably looking at me now
, Kate thought. She tilted her head and behind her curtain of long black hair she pretended to be busy with stacking textbooks from her bag into her locker. She was one of Tyler's charity cases, the reason why not many dared to say ‘nutcase’ to her face. Having a popular athlete for a neighbour and for a childhood friend had its perks. Not to mention that she spent most of her dinners at his place, enjoying the home cooking of his grandmother, Nan.

“--hinted that his performance on the court might suffer if he has to worry... you know, the same thing he did with the crazy over there.”

“Shh, she might hear you,” one of the girls whispered.

“So what? Let her hear.” A locker nearby was slammed shut.

Kate pretended to flinch. She turned toward the sound because that was expected of her and she begrudgingly obliged. At the beginning, their barbs had drawn blood every time they flew at her, but now they rarely managed to even scratch her.

Her gaze was met by frowning faces staring back at her. She didn't bother acknowledging their presence -- they wouldn't have greeted her back anyway -- and with a blank expression, she turned her attention back to her books. She got rid of the one she didn't need, took the one she did, and closed the slightly dented beige door of her locker.

She passed the group as she went toward the entrance of the high school and joined the people pouring out of the school into the parking lot. She walked toward her baby, an old beat-up Ford Mustang she had gotten from her granddad. Kate, her granddad, and her dad had planned on restoring it together, but then her granddad's death and the
incident
put everything on hold.

“Weirdo,” a male voice called out before a hard body bumped against her and a hand yanked on her bag and shoved her away.

She fell down and the contents of her bag spilled on the ground. “Look who's talking,” she groaned to herself, glaring at the wide back moving away. She knew him, the boy. Not two years ago he had almost stalked her, showered her with small gifts, and tried to date her; now he enjoyed shoving her and calling her names.

She snorted. If she thought about it, she was probably better off with him being a jerk to her, since she could handle a jerk better than she could a stalker. She sat up and started to gather her things, furrowing her brows when her eyes landed on a pair of black tennis shoes.

The owner of them squatted down, picked up a notebook, and handed it to her.

Kate looked at his face, which was hidden under a hood, and at the large black horn-rimmed glasses on his nose. Her eyes met with blue ice, a gaze that she could swear was burning into her.

“We haven't met, have we?” He offered her his hand. “Ethan.”

Ethan, Mandy's brother. She stared at his hand for a few seconds. He looked so different from the dazzling version who liked to parade around outside of school, the one Sandra and company admired so much. And they had no idea. “Kate.” She took his hand.

“I know.” Warm fingers curled around her hand and shook it. “You’re Mandy's friend.

At his touch a current of electricity shot through her body. She scowled. “And you... You’re Mandy's brother.” She stood up.

He straightened, too. “Is this a regular thing?”

The wrinkle on her forehead deepened, not because of his question, but at the tingling sensation that started to spread over her limbs. She knew what that meant. She had to calm herself down; but why now? It only happened when she got upset and she wasn’t upset.

He said something to her but it didn't register; she was too occupied with the specks of colour that dotted the edges of her vision. She needed to get home, now. She thanked him for his help and rushed to her car. She got into it.

The colours were already spreading and their blurry shapes were becoming clearer. A semi-tangible form with what used to be a face flew through the windshield and then passed through her with a swish. There were going to be more of them, she knew, and she wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white. The temperature around her dropped. She shivered.

She started the car and turned on the radio, trying to keep her mind blank by humming as she concentrated on the music coming from the speakers. She focused on the drive, while blurs of transparent colours dominated her vision.

She parked her car in the driveway of a white, two-story house, identical to the other homes lined up on the both sides of the street.

She didn't have to peek in the garage to know it was empty, nor did she need to yell, “Is anyone home?” Her dad was gone, on another one of his business trips; he had written that on the slip of paper she had seen attached to the fridge when she made breakfast that morning.

She hurried across the foyer. The sound of her feet against the wood echoed through the empty rooms as she ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and hurried down the hallway into her room. It was large room with a bed, cabinets, wardrobe, desk and chair, all in white. A few books lay scattered on the floor beside the bed, and a few notebooks and some stationery were lined up on the desk. Other than that, nothing betrayed that this was the bedroom of a teenager. No posters decorated the beige walls, only tiny holes set in a square pattern.

She tossed the bag on her bed and went to the wardrobe, which contained colourful dresses on one side and dark-coloured clothes on the other. She forced her way into it, careful not to disrupt the line of white powder that ran along the edge of the wardrobe, lay down and curled up.

They called her crazy, those gossiping clucks. And they were right. She was crazy, crazy like her mother, crazier than they could ever imagine. And the only thing she could do was to pretend that she didn't see them, that she didn't hear them, and that they didn't exist, no matter how much the ghosts hovered over her and whispered their pleas for her to release them in her ear.

She lay there unmoving, drowning in the soothing darkness, her heart slowing down and the trembling washing out of her body while time ticked away. When she finally felt relaxed and brave enough to climb out, night had already fallen.

She turned on the light, then squatted down and took the brush and dustpan she had hidden inside the closet. She cleaned the bottom of the wardrobe and tossed the green bits and white dust into the bin.

She grabbed a small bag of salt and carefully sprinkled a line at the edge of the wardrobe door. Fresh leaves of basil were next; she carefully placed them along the white line together with dried, minced garlic.

She straightened for a bit to roll her shoulders and get rid of the stiffness, before she used her hand to wipe out a blurry picture on the doors of the wardrobe and with a piece of black chalk draw a new pentagram framed with a circle.

There. All done. Perfect, like always, just the way her mother had taught her. She carefully closed the doors of the wardrobe, her safe haven, which was now ready for the next time she needed it.

In the beginning, she had only needed a pentagram to keep ghosts at bay, and now... when they appeared there was only one place she could hide. She leaned her forehead against the wardrobe’s door.

Would she ever be free of them? Would she ever be blind, deaf, and oblivious to them?

Would she ever be normal again?

That was all she wanted: to be normal. She closed her eyes and her fingers scratched the wood.
Please, I just want to be normal.

#

Kate sat cross-legged on the grass in the schoolyard, wasting the lunch break immersed in
Miss Pym Disposes
. Now and again she gazed over the edge of her book, glancing over the lawn scattered with students. Her eyes stopped on a group of girls, pressing their heads together, giggling at the magazine that they shared.

Friends
. Every so often she missed the times when she had been a member of a group like that. She missed the giggling, the sharing, even the friendship, despite it being shallow and false. Maybe that was the reason she hadn’t turned Mandy away like she should have. Like she had promised her mother. They had agreed: no friends, and even though she hadn’t sought out Mandy, she did welcome the girl's presence. But Mandy, with Kate's meddling help, now had a boyfriend, and she mostly spent her lunches with him, just as Kate had predicted.

A shadow fell over her. She lifted her gaze and scowled at the sight of a boy with a hood covering his dark blond hair.

“Hi.” Ethan stuffed his hands into the pockets of his oversized cargo pants.

“Hi.” She drew her bag into her lap.

“Can I join you?”

“No.” Just because she had hung out with Mandy didn't mean she was going to become friends with Mandy's brother. And friendship with Mandy had just been a temporary thing, anyway.

He sat down beside her.

She shifted away from him.

“Don't tell me you are scared of me.” He raised his brows.

“Should I be?”

“I don't know, should you?” A half-smile curled his lips.

“I heard about you. You fight a lot.”

“That's only because they don't leave me alone. I don't know why, but they think I'm an easy target.”

She knew why. The face hidden under his hood drew the eyes and held them, despite the glasses. He was beautiful in a classical sense: perfect narrow nose, plump lips, and cheekbones that models would kill for. Because of that, the boys provoking him probably overlooked his tall, lean body, mistaking him for a weakling. “They are probably insulted by your fashion sense.” She scrutinised the brownish, worn-out hoodie he wore, wondering why he always had a hood over his head. It looked like he was hiding, but from what?

“Maybe.” He leaned over her, making her eyes widen.

What did he want? She shied away from him.

For a moment, his hand hovered above hers before he grabbed the book in her lap and read its title out loud. “
Miss Pym
. A mystery?”

“Yes.” Kate pulled the book out of his hand and shoved it into her bag. She stood up.

“I like mysteries.” He rose lazily, then stretched his arms above his head, exposing a narrow expanse of abdomen. “I prefer Minette Walters and Agatha Christie over Tey. Have you ever read
Toward Zero
? It's one of my favourite Christie books.”

“I read it.” But her favourite was
The Man in the Brown Suit
. She hung the bag across her chest. “Well... Bye.” She strode toward the entrance.

“What's the rush?” He drew level with her.

“The bell is going to ring.” She opened the heavy steel-and-glass door.

He reached over her to hold the edge of the door. “Yeah, but you weren't in a hurry before I joined you.”

She stepped into the building and wheeled around. “What do you want?”

He scratched his neck and flashed a naughty smile. “Well, I'm new around here and thought you could show me around.”

She lifted her brows. “Very funny.”

“Who said that I'm joking?”

“I did. So what do you really want?”

“I wanted to check out Mandy's new best friend.”

“We are not best friends.”

“You are for her. She really likes you.”

“She shouldn't.”

“I know,” he said.

“Whatever.” She turned her back on him.

“She doesn’t know who you are.” He fell in step behind her.

“The nutcase, right?” She sighed. “You don't have to worry, Tyler made sure they won't bully her because she hangs out with me.”

“Tyler? The boyfriend?” He frowned. “Well, anyway, I'm not talking about bullying.”

What else was there?
She thought of ignoring him, but she asked anyway, “Then what are you talking about?”

“I know who you are and what you can do,” he said.

She wrinkled her forehead as she glanced at him over her shoulder, careful not to meet his eyes. They were dangerous, those eyes. “What's that supposed to mean?”