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Fate (New Hope Academy Book 1) Page 4
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Page 4
I’ve never known what the point of gossiping is. What’s the point of talking about something unless you’re certain is true. Lies hurt people.
As I’m standing in the room, waiting for Tristan, a younger girl walks up to me.
“Excuse me, are you Katerina Vasin?” she asks.
“Yes,” I answer. “Who are you?”
“I’m Jade Bello.” She looks at me expectedly, like I should know who she is.
Jade is most likely a freshman. She is shorter than me, though I’d say most freshman are taller than me. She’s really skinny, but I’d say that’s because she is a freshman and has a lot of growing to do. She has dark brown hair, and blue eyes. Her eyes are familiar somehow, but I don’t know her at all.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jade,” I say.
Her face falls just a bit, and I feel bad.
“Do I know you?” I ask. “Have you been to Russia?”
She shakes her head. “Well, sorry to bother you.”
With that, Jade slips through the crowd, away from me.
That was odd.
A few seconds later, Tristan walks up. “Were you just talking to Jade?”
I nod. “How do you know her?”
“She was my tour guide. She showed me around campus,” he answers.
“But she’s only a freshman,” I say. “Wait, how come I didn’t get a tour of the campus? I’m new.”
“I asked for one,” he answers.
He’s got an answer for everything.
“So, how do you know Jade?” he asks, and gives me a look similar to Jade. Like he’s expecting me to answer a certain way. I wish I knew which way that was.
“I don’t. She just walked up to me and introduced herself,” I say. “She knew my name. I’m not sure how. Maybe I should have asked her.”
Tristan grins, like something I said was funny.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says. “Ready to go on that hike?”
“Yeah.”
I follow him out out of the student lounge and down the corridor. We go out the double doors at the end, and are met with blistering heat. It’s hotter than it was earlier. Maybe taking a hike in this heat is a bad idea. But hopefully the trees will shade us from the sun.
“Katerina, tell me about your family. What are they like?” he asks, as we make out way down the sidewalk, towards the trees.
“My family has always been really close. My dad met my mum when he was on a European vacation. London was his first stop, but then he met her. He stayed there instead of going on to the next destination. When it was time for him to go home, he didn’t want to leave her. So she went with him. They got married, and the rest is history. They had Dimitri a year after they got married. Then Alik. Then Eduard. Then me,” I say.
It’s weird to say Eduard’s name out loud. I haven’t said it in such a long time.
“You’re the baby,” he says.
“And the only girl,” I say, sighing. “I’m surprised my mum and dad sent me here. They’ve always been very clingy when it comes to me. They don’t let me do anything without them or one of my brothers. I never minded, though. Eduar…” I clear my throat. “Eduard was my best friend. We did everything together.”
“He’s your brother who die.” It’s not a question.
I nod.
“My older brother died when I was your age,” he says. “It’s the kind of loss that leaves scars.”
“When you were my age? How old are you?” I ask.
“You’re a junior, right? I’m a senior,” he says.
“Yeah. I’m sixteen,” I say. “I’ll be seventeen in December.”
“What day?” he asks.
“December fifth,” I answer. “And I’m sorry about your brother. It’s only been four months since my brother… well, anyway, I miss him a lot. Does it get better? I mean, I know your brother’s death is still recent, but I’m just hoping this pain will ease.”
“I’m not sure the pain will ever go away, or even ease,” he says. “It may seem better, but really, you just get used to the pain being there. It becomes familiar. Someday, I hope to be happy. But I’m taking it one day at a time.”
“Taking it one day at a time doesn’t seem to be helping,” I tell him. “A day turns into weeks. Then months. But I’m here and I’m breathing. I guess that is a start. My brother, Alik, made me promise I’d try here. And I guess that’s what I’m going to do. Try. That’s all I can do.”
“Maybe we can be friends. We’ll be miserable together,” he says, his voice sounding off.
I like Tristan. I feel like we have a lot in common. “I’d like to be your friend, Tristan.”
He turns and looks at me. He looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. Not as a fellow classmate, but as a friend. It’s like we’re connected because of the hurt that we feel so deeply for our lost siblings. It doesn’t matter that he’s American or that I’m Russian. Because of circumstances, that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we’re here, talking to each other.
“You turned out to be so different than who I thought you were originally,” he says to me.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head. “Come on. The path is up this way.”
We walk towards the trees. Just as we’re about to step onto the path, I hear somebody yell behind us.
“Students aren’t allowed to go here,” the voice yells. “Stop where you are.”
We both turn around and face a police office. He’s a heavyset guy, probably in his mid thirties. As he looks at us, his mean expression fades.
“Sorry, Tristan. Didn’t realize it was you. You’re free to go,” the officer says.
“Thanks,” Tristan says, as the officer walks off.
I stand there, staring at his figure disappearing towards the school.
“Wha… How?” I ask.
“The cops like me,” he says.
“How? You just got here,” I say. “And they just got here. You made friends with them that fast?”
He grins. “Katerina, surely you’ve found out by now that people in this school have connections.”
“Of course,” I say. “This is some kind of school for rich people.”
“Let’s just say that I have connections,” he says, then takes off walking down the path.
I stand there, watching him walk away, wondering what kind of a school I just came to. Is this real?
“Are you coming?” he asks.
Am I?
One of my first impressions of Tristan Thomas is how odd he is. That is still true. But something about him makes me want to be his friend. And maybe being friends with somebody like him, somebody with connections, wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
I walk forward, making my decision.
We pace beside each other, making our way down the path.
“Tell me about your other brothers,” Tristan says. “Alik and Dimitri. What are they like?”
“Well, Dimitri is… serious,” I answer. “He’s always been a very into his studies. Dad swears one day he will be president. Maybe he’s right. And Alik is the complete opposite. He likes to goof off and have fun. He’s always getting mediocre marks in school. He’s smart and has a lot of drive, but unfortunately, none of it is geared towards his studies.”
“What about you?”
“I am somewhere in between,” I say. “Eduard and I both are. The main difference between us was, he was daring, where I am safe. He pushed me to do crazy things. It was fun. I am smart, like Dimitri, but I don’t have to try. I’ve always made good marks with very minimal studying. What about you? What kind of person are you?”
“I’m… boring,” Tristan says. “I’d much rather talk about you.”
“If we’re going to be friends, I have to know you too, don’t I?” I ask.
He sighs. “Fine. I’m smart, I guess. I study hard and work harder. I like to run, and run at least five miles every sing
le day. I hate country music, cats and reality TV. I love coffee, history, and pushing my body to the limit with physical exercise.”
“What about your family?” I ask.
He comes to a stop and turns to me. “I told you about my brother, but that’s all your getting. If we’re going to be friends, you can never ask me about my family—ever.”
I search his eyes. I want to know why he won’t talk about his family. I’m about to ask, when I see something in them. Sometimes so familiar. I know it’s familiar, because I see the same thing in my eyes everyday. Pain. Except his is deep. It’s like he was cut right to the core of his heart, and then rebuilt. The problem is, something like that leaves a scar that will never heal.
“Okay,” I say. “Fine. I won’t ask about your family.”
We start walking forward.
I wonder what happened with his family. Are they close? Did they have a fight? Or are they dead?
So many questions swim through my mind, but I know I’ll never ask him. I don’t want to see the hurt in his eyes again.
“I like to run too,” I tell him. “After Eduard… left… my brother Alik refused to let me lay in bed all day. He told me I had to move my muscles. So everyday, he took me out running. It kind of became an addiction. My mum caught on and made us take shorter runs—only an hour at a time. But still, that hour was always my favorite time. I hate sitting still. When you sit, you have time to think, and I hate thinking. I don’t get how Savannah can play video games all day long. I’d go crazy.”
“You and I are a lot alike in some ways,” Tristan says.
I wonder if that’s a compliment, but I’m too scared to ask him.
“Do you know what happened with the body they found?” I ask.
If anybody would know the truth, it’s Tristan.
“Yes,” he answers.
“What happened?”
He stops again and looks at me. “You ask a lot of really hard questions, you know that?”
“Oh,” I say.
“The body… it was a young girl. She goes to a nearby public school. They think she was sneaking on campus to see her boyfriend,” Tristan says. “Somebody murdered her, Katerina. They’re going to cover it up and say that she died of natural causes, but you need to be careful.”
We start walking forward again, only now I am too scared to ask him anything else.
She was murdered.
What if somebody else is killed? What if I’m next?
Be careful. Tristan’s words swim around in my head, ready to explode.
Before I can say anything else, I realize that I hear water.
We’re walking towards the lake.
It’s a different path than we took last night, but it’s leading there.
“Tristan, are you sure we should be going this way?” I ask.
He doesn’t say anything. He just keeps walking, and I keep following him. Maybe I shouldn’t. I just found out somebody was murdered last night. But I trust Tristan, which might be stupid.
We stop and I look ahead to see the lake. I see the rock that Asher pushed me off of last night.
“Katerina, I know you were here last night,” he says. “And I need to tell me everything that happened.”
I sigh. Maybe I shouldn’t tell him, but I want to tell somebody. “Last night, Savannah wanted me to go to the soccer field party. I really just wanted to sleep, and maybe I should have. But I came with her. And before we could get to the field, her cousin met us. Asher. He wanted to show me something. I didn’t want to leave Savannah, but she told me it was okay. So I went. I want to make friends, and Asher seems cool. So he took me here. To the lake. Only we came in from the opposite side. We climbed up on top of that rock. Asher… well, he pushed me in. I guess he was trying to be funny. After, he jumped in. We swam for a few minutes and talked. Then we climbed out onto a rock so we could dry off. I heard something in the woods. Asher told me I was paranoid and that it was probably a squirrel. I told him it could be a tiger or a bear and he made fun of me, saying there aren’t wild animals here. But then we heard whatever it was go the opposite way. I figured we were safe. So Asher walked me back to my dorm. I took a shower, blow-dried my hair, and went to bed. That’s it.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police this morning? When you found out they found a dead body here?” Tristan asks.
“Because Asher said we would look guilty. I wanted to, and still want to. I just want to talk to Asher again first and make sure he’s all right with it,” I say. “How did you know I was out here?”
“I followed you,” he says, casually, as if he was telling me his favorite color.
“You followed me? Why would you do that? Are you mad?” I ask.
“Asher has a reputation. I just wanted to make sure you were safe,” he answers.
“Oh,” I say, not sure how I feel about that.
“Katerina, did you know the president of the United States’s son goes here?” Tristan asks me.
I nod, remembering Savannah said something about it earlier.
“He hasn’t arrived yet. He’ll be here later tonight, in time for the dance. He’s late coming back from his summer vacation,” he tells me. “His safety is important. So I need you to be honest with me.”
“I’m not a liar,” I tell him, defending myself.
“I’m not saying you are. I’m just telling you, it’s important to always be honest with me,” he says.
“How do you know the president’s son will be here?” I ask. “You’re new too.”
He shrugs.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“Tristan Thomas.”
I narrow my eyes.
“There was a threat,” he says.
“A threat?” I ask.
“On the school. On the president’s son,” he answers. “Look, this school… it’s a private school.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“No. I mean it’s really private. You can’t get into school here unless you’re somebody. Like the president’s son,” he says.
“But what about me? I’m just a girl from Russia. I’m nobody. How did I get in?” I ask.
“You’re somebody, Katerina. Somebody important,” he says.
My eyes widen. “You know why I’m here. How I’m here.”
He nods.
“Tell me.”
“I… can’t,” he says.
“Why not?” I ask.
“It’s not safe,” Tristan tells me. “I shouldn’t even be telling you any of this, but I have to give you a heads up.”
“Why?”
“The terrorists organization that wants to kill the president’s son is a Russian group,” he says. “And your father is the head of it.”
I stare at him, the world spinning around me. My ears start to ring and I feel dizzy.
“What did you just say?” I ask.
“Your father is part of a Russian terrorist group,” he says again.
“No! My father is a good man! A great man!” I say, defending my dad. There is no way Tristan is telling the truth.
“Maybe he is to you. But I’m telling you the truth. Your father is the head, and your brother Dimitri is most likely joining after his wedding. I’m almost certain that Alik is following in their footsteps and he would probably try to recruit you too. Once you are older,” Tristan says.
“You’re lying!” I turn to run away.
“Your mom called me,” he says, saying the one thing that will make me stay and listen.
I stop in my tracks and turn around.
Now he has my attention.
“Your father believes what he’s doing is good. Noble even. But he’s wrong,” he says. “I had to know what side you were on. You’re not like them, are you? You really didn’t know about it.”
I swallow back tears.
“Eduard?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I’m sure they were going to recruit him when he was old enough.”
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br /> “What about my mum?” I ask. “What did she say to you?”
“She told me you were in danger. The group—it’s not safe for girls. Your brother’s death gave her the perfect opportunity to send you here,” he says. “Your dad saw how much you were hurting and your mom convinced him you would be better off here in America.”
“How does my mum know you?”
“We’re trying to defeat the group,” Tristan says. “Your mom has been secretly working on our side for quite sometime now. We’ve promised to protect her kids in exchange for information. You father doesn’t tell her much, but he tells her enough.”
Suddenly, it all makes sense. The long trips my dad used to take. My mom’s late night phone calls while he was gone. The arguments they used to have when they thought we were gone to bed. The fear in my mother’s eyes every time my dad wanted to talk to me.
Tristan is telling the truth.
“I’m not really a high school student. I’m twenty one years old. I’m here undercover,” he says. “I work for the United States government and I’m here to protect this school. To protect the president’s son. But most of all, I’m here to protect you.”
My heart beats hard against my chest and I feel like it’s breaking into a million tiny pieces.
My dad isn’t who I thought he was.
My happy family—it was all just an illusion. One that I made up.
Eduard used to tell me that things aren’t always as they seem, but I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to believe in my happy world. I wanted to stay in my bubble, safe and protected from everything bad around me.
“I’m going to train you,” he tells me. “I’ll teach you how to protect yourself—how to fight. Hopefully you won’t ever have to fight. But in case you do, I need you to know how to protect yourself.”
“What does my dad have against the presidents son?” I ask, needing to know.
I have only happy memories with my dad. Him taking me to the theater, teaching me how to swim and ride a bike, him helping me with my studies. He was always so soft and kind to me. He even called me this morning to see how I was after that girl’s body was found.
“It’s not the boy he has a problem with,” Tristan says. “It’s his dad. The president.”
“My dad called me this morning,” I say, holding back tears. “He asked how I was doing. He was worried because they found a body on campus. Does that sound like somebody who is a terrorist?”