Not Your Destiny: Chapter 1
Marked
Book 1: Not Your Destiny
Chapter 1
Hayley’s breath is a series of soft huffs, echoing in rapid repeat inside the car. There are tiny sparks haloed around her head, her eyes seeming to glow a gentle gold in reflection. Ángel licks his lips and tries to think of something to defuse the situation.
“If you look to your right, you’ll see the ice cream shop that Tanner and I used to bike to every weekend in the spring and fall, ever since we were twelve.” As soon as they had the freedom to bike further than each other’s houses, leave the street they grew up on, that was the first place they went. “Not during the summer, though; it was too hot for that. Summers were for air conditioning and video games.”
A low breath eases from Hayley’s lungs, almost like a wheeze.
Ángel throws his left arm out the window, points to a low white building, all newer construction, with a dark tiled ceramic roof. “The library,” he says. “Because Tanner and I were nerdy enough that when we said we were at the library, we were actually at the library. I have to stop in and see Mrs. Hannigan every time I come home, and she’ll tell you the story about when she found me sleeping in the stacks. She tells it to me every time, like I wasn’t there for it.”
He always liked Mrs. Hannigan, who would quietly wake him and wait on the steps with him when he was young and his father was late picking him up. Ángel’s fingers flex on the steering wheel, slowly tensing as he gets closer to home. Hayley picks up on the tension, wheezes again on her next breath.
Ángel pulls over, parks in the library lot.
“Hayley,” he says softly.
“I shouldn’t be with you.” Sparks flicker in her eyes. “Take me to the airport. Put me on a plane. They’re going to hate me.”
He reaches for her, bridges the distance them so that he can stroke the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “Hey,” he murmurs. “They’re not going to hate you. How could they hate you? I love you, right? Abuela’s been dying to meet you, and Papi’s going to adore you. And you and Tanner—you’re my best friends. Of course you’re going to get along perfectly, right?”
Hayley nods slowly, fingers twisting together in her lap. “Maybe we shouldn’t have—”
It’s too late for that now, but Ángel doesn’t want to point that out, not when Hayley’s already upset about it. “Abuela will say it’s because you’re not Cuban; she holds out hope I’m going to meet a good Cuban who’s smarter than me, stronger than me, and all around better than I should even hope to have in my life.”
Hayley’s eyes go wide.
“And the thing is, she’s going to love you anyway, and then she’ll blame me for the Ritual going wrong,” Ángel tells her with a slow smile, because he’s pretty sure it’s true. “Just remember that the first thing to say whenever anything happens in my house is that it’s Ángel’s fault.”
Hayley’s hand thumps lightly against his chest. “Don’t talk about yourself in the third person.”
“Don’t panic about my family.” Ángel curls his hand around the nape of her neck, pulls her closer until they can tilt forehead to forehead. “We can do this. We’re here for two weeks, then we drive back to PHU. We’re going to have a great time, and trust me, you’re going to love the Cruz/Martin combined family Christmas. We know how to party.”
Hayley’s smile flickers. “Okay. Sure, okay, I’m ready. I just—”
She doesn’t have to finish. “Me too,” Ángel agrees. Whether they’re exactly on the same page or not, Ángel knows they’re close enough.
He uncurls his fingers from the nape of her neck, and she slowly sits back, takes in a deep breath and holds it. She exhales in a shiver of sparks bubbling from her lips.
“Might be good if you didn’t shock my family, though,” Ángel says lightly, and Hayley thumps his shoulder.
“I’m getting all the out of control bits over with while we’re still in the car,” she says. “I don’t want to upset your dad’s pacemaker.”
Pacemaker, kidney damage, liver issues, and a heart valve that could use surgery; Papi’s not in great shape, but Joey does her best to keep him healthy. She’ll never be Mami, but Ángel treasures her for the fact that she loves Papi.
He pulls back out, drives silently through the remaining blocks into his neighborhood. He passes by Tanner’s house, spots both Tanner’s truck in the driveway, gleaming despite the rust, as well as Mary’s newer sedan. It encourages Ángel, and he makes his way three houses further before he pulls into the driveway behind his father’s old SUV.
His stomach churns; despite all the platitudes for Hayley, he’s terrified of this reunion. He knew he’d be nervous when he first planned this a month ago. Bringing Hayley home for the first time is a big step. But everything’s upside down now.
The door to the house opens, and Emerson spills out first. He’s grown into his height, legs and arms waving less than they used to. He seems less like a stumbling colt, more like a graceless gazelle as he rushes down the steps to the car, stopping just shy of yanking Ángel’s door open.
Hayley’s eyes are wide, shifting from Emerson to the crowd waiting just beyond him.
“No point in delaying.” Ángel pushes the door open, lets Emerson yank him into a back-thumping hug. There’s a moment when he feels something pop at his ear, and he pulls back to look worriedly at Emerson. “You okay?”
“I don’t seize every time, any more,” Emerson says. “It’s getting better. They’ve even said I can mainstream my classes next fall, so I get to start high school. Which is awesome.”
“High school is not awesome,” Ángel says dryly. It was, in its own way, but high school is also something he’d like to remember fondly in the distance, aside from everything to do with Tanner.
“High school is going to be more awesome than being stuck in a room with just the teacher, me, and three other kids at risk of severe health issues every time their Talent acts up,” Emerson mutters. “I’ll take teenage drama over that.”
“Seriously, it’ll be good for him.” Tanner reaches past Emerson, and Ángel clasps his hand, yanks him into a hug and holds on tight. It feels good to be back. “Missed you,” Tanner mumbles, and Ángel nods without saying anything.
Papi clears his throat, and Ángel steps back, looks at the people gathered around his car. Tanner’s mother, Mary, is with Emerson, and Ángel’s stepmother Joey stands with Papi and Abuela.
He frowns, looks back at the car.
Hayley still sits in the passenger seat, one hand on the door handle, her eyes wide. Her tongue darts out to lick her lips and she smiles slightly. Lifts one hand, wiggles her fingers.
Ángel leans back in, motions to her. “No one’s going to bite,” he promises. “Just might hug you until you can’t breathe, but that’s normal around here. We’re a hugging family.”
Hayley unlatches the door with a click, emerges slowly. She barely manages to get out of the car before Emerson’s there, throwing his arms around her shoulders and pulling her in to hug her. “Oh, hi,” she says, her face pressed against his chest. “You’re Emerson, right? Tanner’s brother? The one who—”
She stumbles to a stop, sparks lighting around her head, and Emerson laughs.
“The one who has seizures and whose only Talent is creating bubbles of light that pop really loudly? Yeah, that’s me.” Emerson steps back, offers a hand to her and shakes it solemnly. “Don’t worry, I know that Ángel’s told you everything about being family here. That you’re practically family. I mean—”
It’s his turn to stop, cheeks bright spots of red. A blue bubble rises behind him, pops over his head in a shower of color as Emerson winces. “Sorry,” he says.
“No, it’s okay. I mean, it’s really okay. We’ve kind of spent the last twenty hours talking about it, and how miserable it is and we both still really want to be here and I’m so excited to meet everyone that Ángel’s been telling me about. He’s wanted me to meet Tanner for absolute ages but—”
“I don’t travel well and Tanner won’t leave me,” Emerson finishes the sentence for her, patting her shoulder. “He’s a good brother.”
“Tanner.” Ángel grabs his friend’s wrist, draws him forward. “This is Hayley. And Hayley, this is Tanner. And that’s Papi, and Abuela, and Joey, and Mary, and that’s pretty much everyone you need to know.”
Tanner spreads his arms, tilts his head in silent offering.
Hayley huffs a sigh. “What the hell. You keep saying I’m family.” She moves in for the hug, wraps her arms around Tanner as his hands fall against her back. Her face presses into his chest, and she makes a small squeaking sound.
“No.” She gets her hands up between them, pushes Tanner away. Her eyes are wide, sparks circling her head, snapping from her fingertips. She shakes her head. “Fuck. No. No.”
Tanner stares at her in confusion, hands still raised in the air. He blinks in confusion. “What?”
Ángel has no idea. He reaches for Hayley, jerks back when she steps away, turns to him still shaking her head.
“I….” She swallows hard, twists her hand and shows the inside of her wrist to Ángel. The staff with two snakes wound about it is clear and bright, the skin on the edges stung red as if from freshly pricked ink. Her eyes water when she blinks. “I….”
“Oh, hey, is that the staff of Caduceus?” Tanner reaches for her arm, takes it gently so he can look more closely at it. “Ángel, dude, you never told me your girlfriend was pre-med.”
“I’m not,” Hayley whispers. “This is—it’s just—fuck. Ángel. I’m so sorry.”
Ángel’s feet are glued to the ground, his heart jack-rabbiting so fast that blood pounds in his ears. He wants the earth to rise up and swallow him down, because this is not possible. It can’t be. Not this, not now. Not him.
“Ángel?”
Papi sounds worried, and Ángel can’t find the words to answer him. He holds one hand up, turns his head so no one but Hayley and Tanner can see the prick of tears in his eyes. He blinks through the liquid haze, but he still can’t seem to see anything but the ink, hear anything but the pounding of his own heart.
“It is best if we go inside.” Abuela’s voice, firm and calm. “Tanner, help Hayley take her things up to the guest room. Emerson, Marcos needs help with the grill. Josefina, Mary, you will start in the kitchen. I will be in soon.”
“Ángel?” Hayley doesn’t move, watching him.
It’ll be easier when they have each other to talk to about it.
He just wants her to be happy.
The words are dry as ash on his tongue, and he gestures at the house. “Tanner can show you to the room. Tanner, be prepared to struggle with her six bags. They’re heavy.”
“Three,” Hayley corrects automatically. “The rest are like carry-ons.”
“Dude.” Tanner lays a hand on Ángel’s shoulder, and Ángel’s gaze shifts to look at the exposed inner skin of his wrist. Stylized sparks in a shower like fireworks, the skin still red around them, and Tanner seems absolutely unaware of the change.
Ángel swallows, shakes his head. “I’m fine. Make sure Hayley’s all set, okay? Give you guys a chance to talk to each other. I’m sorry, it’s been a rough few weeks.”
“Go.” Abuela’s tone brooks no nonsense, and a moment later the others all go inside, Emerson helping carry Hayley’s things. The trunk sits open, Ángel’s bags still in the back.
He leans on the edge of the trunk, lowers his head and tries to breathe.
“It is the best of worlds and the worst of worlds when your dearest friends fall in love with each other,” Abuela murmurs. “I’m sorry.”
Ángel’s shoulders shake, his fingers tight over the rubberized seal around the bottom edge of the trunk. He shakes his head quickly. “It’s not love. Not yet. It’s some kind of fucking destiny and they don’t even know each other. I still love her. She still loves me.”
“And you love Tanner, yes?”
“First love,” Ángel mutters under his breathe, sure Abuela can’t hear him. He inhales, nods once. “Like a brother, yes,” he agrees. “I’ve wanted them to meet for a long time. They’re the two most important people in my life after Papi and you.”
Abuela sniffs, a snort that is far too indelicate for someone of her age. “You might want to include Josefina in your list of important people, or she might be offended.”
“She’s fifth, along with Emerson and Mary.” It’s not like Ángel keeps an absolute list, and the priorities shift and change depending on the day. But these are his people. His core. The ones who help keep his feet on the ground on the days when the world really does feel like it’ll swallow him whole. “Aren’t you going to say you told me so?”
“No, of course not.” Her voice is gentle. She slips an arm across his back, squeezes him gently. She’s tiny, his abuela, her head barely coming up to his shoulder. He remembers when she seemed so large to him, and he wonders if she’s shrunk while he was growing. Even after only six months she seems older than when he left.
He turns and leans back against the trunk to half sit, accepts the hug she offers and holds on as if he were still a small child, and she could make the hurts of the world disappear. “You said it would work,” he grumbles.
“I said if you were truly meant to be, it would work,” she corrects gently. “Tell me true, were you entirely surprised? She is exactly like you, Ángel. It is as if she were cut from the same cloth, placed in a different body at birth, and then you found each other once again. We are not meant to be with ourselves, Ángel. We are meant to find those who complement us. Who challenge us, and make us the best of ourselves.”
“She challenges me.” Ángel winces as Abuela pats his shoulder sharply. “Okay. Maybe not challenge. But it’s so perfect. So easy. We know everything there is to know about each other, and I do love her.”
“You don’t have to stop loving her, do you? She’s going to stay a part of your life,” Abuela points out. “You will be there for her and Tanner, through their trials and tribulations.” She reaches for his wrist, turns it up so she can see the inside, and gently brushes her thumb across the cloud of grey. “I have heard of this happening once.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“It was a story,” Abuela says. “A cousin of a friend of the boy who married my sister. It was nothing more than hearsay, and not a thing to be trusted.”
“Did everyone getting married do this when you were young?” Maybe these are questions he should have asked before the ceremony.
“Not everyone, but many,” Abuela said. She shows him the arrow that still marks the inside of her wrist, the tip pointing up her arm, the fletching across the lines of her wrist. “We knew, Ángel. We knew before we ever began the Ritual.”
“We knew,” he says stubbornly. “We both knew.”
“You were wrong.”
It’s true, and Ángel knows it in his gut, where truth twists painfully until he feels like he wants to puke with the strength of it. “Yeah, well.” He glances at the house, wonders what Hayley is telling Tanner and how he’s reacting. He knows he should go inside, be there for both of them. His best friends. Their worlds have shifted again, and he’s supposed to support them.
He doesn’t think he can, not right now.
“Abuela, tell Papi I needed to go out.” Ángel pushes away from the trunk, makes sure she’s clear before he closes the door. “I won’t be long, I promise. I’m just going to drive into town. Maybe go to the library, harass Mrs. Hannigan for old time’s sake.”
“You’ll miss lunch.”
It’s not a no, and it’s not telling him not to go. Abuela’s gaze is soft and gentle. Understanding.
“I’m probably going to miss dinner,” Ángel counters, smile wry. “I’ll text Hayley and Tanner. And I’ll call Papi and explain, I promise. I just need some time to myself and I’m not going to get it here. And they—” His gaze shifts back to the house, as if he can see through the walls to where they are. “They need time, too. Without worrying about me. Because this is a good thing for both of them. And I’m glad I brought Hayley here, that she’s met Tanner. This is good, Abuela. It’s going to be good.”
It’s just not good right now, and in Ángel’s heart of hearts, he wonders if it’ll ever be good for himself. Or if maybe this will work out perfectly for them, and he’s left on the outside looking in.
“I’m going to go now.” He yanks open the car door, pauses when Abuela touches his arm.
“I understand,” she says, and Ángel almost believes she does.
