Strangers & Fate
Michelle’s POV
Pathetic. That’s what I am. I did my best in this interview, and still—nothing.
Great.
Now, I somehow need to leave my bedroom without anyone noticing—especially Mum. If she had it her way, she would’ve murdered me a thousand times by now. Since I’m twenty-five, she thinks I should have my life sorted in some areas by now. But for now, there’s nothing. In any department. No career, no love life—just stuck at home, going to job interviews and either receiving a disappointing email or a simple, “Sorry.” It’s mentally exhausting, but for my parents (especially Mum), mental health doesn’t matter. I know she means well, but at this rate, one of us will end up cutting the other off, which I really don’t want. So, I need to keep trying.
Anyway, I need something to cheer me up right now, and buying a book (or several) alongside a coffee sounds like a literal dream come true. But no one will ever understand that. I just need to get past the kitchen into the hallway (which has a lot of squeaky floorboards) quietly, so no one hears me leave through the front door. But, alas, fate had other plans.
“You sneaking around like a thief means you didn’t get the job, doesn’t it?” Mum caught me in the hallway and grabbed my ear, tugging it—painfully. “Did you, or did you not?”
“MUM, LET GO! PLEASE! YOU’RE HURTING ME!”
“Well, we wouldn’t be in this situation if you just spoke to us like a human being, right, sweetie?” Dad pops up out of nowhere. He looks at Mum. “You got her. You can let her go now, dear.”
“Well?” Mum asks, finally letting go of me.
I rub my now sore and red ear. “No.”
“So, where on earth do you think you’re going?” Dad asks.
“I just wanted to go to the local library.” My statement turns into a question by the end.
“Absolutely not,” Mum says, ending the conversation as she turns towards the kitchen.
“Please,” I beg. “I gave it my best, and if it didn’t happen, it wasn’t supposed to. That’s what you always say, right?” I reason.
Dad speaks up for me. “She’s been trying interview after interview, back to back. I think it’s time we give her a break and just let her go.” He looks at Mum, “Please, for me, darling?”
Mum looks at me again, her eyes narrowing—a sign she wants to say something but chooses not to. Turning back towards the kitchen, she speaks. “Only if you change. You look like a rat. And just for two hours, understand?”
I sprint back upstairs, barely stopping as I call out, “Thanks, Mum! Love you, Dad!”
Twenty minutes later, changed and with a coffee in my left hand, I’m browsing through the shelves in the local library. My right hand trails over the books as I skim the titles—until I see it. The book I’ve been waiting weeks for has finally made an appearance. Just as I reach for it, I’m suddenly shoved, and I end up face down on the floor.
OMG, kill me now.
“Yes! It’s here! This is what I was looking for! OMG. Finally.”
An unfamiliar male voice yells excitedly—at someone, I think—completely oblivious to the fact that he just sent me crashing to the ground. He doesn’t even notice what he’s done as he proceeds to read the back of the book.
I look up to see a guy with dark, curly brown hair and gorgeous doe eyes. “Excuse me?” I snap, angrily getting to my feet. It was a hard hit, and, not to mention, it came out of nowhere, so it startled me more than I’d like to admit.
“Yes?” He finally makes eye contact, looking up from the book as he speaks to me.
“Did you not see me standing here? You just pushed me out of the way and onto the floor! What is wrong with you? Could you not have said two simple words like, I don’t know, EXCUSE ME?!” My anger rises, especially since it doesn’t look like he has any intention of apologising.
I spoke too soon.
As soon as he really sees me, realisation dawns across his face. Judging by the speed at which apologies start spilling out of him, I actually think he didn’t realise what he had done. “I’m so sorry! OMG, I really didn’t mean to. Goddess, seriously, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
Out of nowhere, another male appears—this one with blond hair and striking green eyes. He steps between me and the brunet, as if I’m a threat, and turns to face him. He grabs his arm and questions, “What’s wrong?”
I answer instead. “What’s wrong is that your friend over here pushed me onto the floor over a book instead of saying ‘excuse me’ like any respectful person would.”
“Is that true?” he asks.
The brunet—Raphael, apparently—nods in confirmation. The blond starts muttering under his breath but makes sure Raphael hears him. “Raphael, what did I tell you about your speed and strength? You need to control it. Get a fucking grip on yourself. Have you apologised to her?”
Raphael glances at him. “Samuel, I did, but you came at the same time, so I kind of got cut off.” He turns back to me, apologising once again. “I’m really, really sorry. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine now,” I reply. “But you really need to be more careful.”
“I will from now on. Promise. Hi, by the way, I’m Raphael Alvarez, and this is my mate—I mean, boyfriend—Samuel Hopkins.”
“Michelle Knowles. Hi.”
