Chapter 1
Everything Happens for a Reason
HEER PATEL
My slow breaths synced with the silence of my room. The dim glow of my bedside lamp cast long shadows on the walls. I felt the vibrations on my thighs... of my phone, of course. I peeked at the screen, holding the book I was reading in one hand. A kiwi emoji flashed on the caller ID. I picked up the phone.
“Hii,” I said, my voice slightly raspy from disuse.
“Wanna come for a ride? There’s an awesome place I know you’d love,” the manly voice on the other end replied.
“Sure,” I said, getting up and immediately sending him my location. The idea of a midnight ride sounded appealing—especially since my night had been dull.
Kiwi wasn’t the guy’s name. It was his bike’s name. I saved him as “Kiwi” in my contacts, though his real name was Jake. How I got his number is a long story, but to sum it up: he saved me from the rain—well, not exactly, but close enough.
I placed the book on the bookshelf and slipped my phone into the pocket of my hoodie. I was already wearing black sweatpants and a black hoodie, my go-to comfort attire. My hair was tied up in a loose bun, a few strands escaping to frame my face. I slipped on my white, clean sneakers, which I was especially proud of. After switching off the lights, I made my way downstairs, not caring if I left the door open.
My room was on the top floor, right in front of the stairs. As I walked past the kitchen, I saw my roommate, Jessie, sitting on the counter with a man between her legs—probably trying to do some unholy stuff in my holy kitchen.
“There’s a comfortable bed in your room,” I yelled as I headed to the main door, grabbing the house keys from the side table. I shut the door behind me.
The cool air hit my face as soon as I stepped outside. The chilly breeze sent shivers down my spine, but it was perfect for a bike ride. A little adventure wouldn’t hurt, right? I made my way to the next neighborhood, a five-minute walk for me, since I’m short and have little legs. If anyone ever dared to comment on my height, I made sure they’d regret it.
I reached the third house in the next neighborhood—where my best friend, Amelia, lived. I took out my phone and called her. She picked up on the fourth ring.
“Come downstairs now. I’m standing outside your house,” I said firmly, then hung up.
I chuckled softly and looked up at the stars, a small smile forming on my lips. The sky was vast, a deep shade of indigo with tiny stars scattered across it. “No moon tonight,” I whispered, feeling a strange sense of calm.
A moment later, I was smacked from behind. I turned to find a 5’3" girl with brown hair and emerald green eyes grinning at me.
“Shortie, this late, huh?” she teased, crossing her arms.
I ignored her and turned my gaze back to the road. Some peeks of light were coming our way, and I waved as if the bikers could see me. The rumble of the engines grew louder as they neared.
Soon, two bikes pulled up, their headlights illuminating us.
“Come on, Amy, we’re gonna be late because of your lazy ass,” I said, walking toward the biker on the black bike with a small kiwi sticker.
The bikers took off their helmets. Jake ran a hand through his messy black hair. “Ready, ladies?”
“Yes,” I replied with a grin, glancing at Amelia, who shot me a glare.
The other biker handed Amelia a helmet. After a five-minute struggle and complete silence, she finally put it on. I looked at Jake, who gave me a nod and helped me with my helmet. I thanked him with a quick nod—yes, that’s how I thanked people sometimes.
I sat on the bike, wrapping my arms around Jake’s waist. His leather jacket was warm against my cheek. He nodded to the other biker, and we sped off. The city lights blurred into streaks of color as we rode through the empty streets.
After what Amelia later called an “astonishing and safe ride,” we reached our destination. The sound of screeching tires and the overwhelming scent of alcohol and smoke filled my nostrils. A wave of adrenaline shot through me, my eyes darting around, searching for a suitable place for us to stand. The place was alive with energy—people cheering, cars revving, neon lights flickering.
“I hope I make it home without fainting,” I heard Amelia whisper, her fingers clutching my arm.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be there to protect you.” I lightly punched her arm. She rolled her eyes in response but stayed close to me.
Half an hour passed with Amelia glaring at me while I recorded some cars, my phone steady in my grip. The engines roared, and the excitement in the air was almost tangible. Finally, I decided it was time to head home. I checked the time on my phone—it was already 2 a.m., and the place was starting to get pretty crowded.
We made our way out of the crowd. Amelia was walking like she’d be dead if she stayed any longer, her shoulders tense.
Suddenly, a man sped by me like the Flash, causing me to stumble. Before I could regain my balance, something—or someone—pushed me from the side. The next thing I knew, I was on my ass, the rough pavement cold beneath me.
I looked up and saw a blonde guy staring down at me, his expression apologetic as he made a move to walk away, leaving me embarrassed and annoyed.
That wasn’t going to happen.
“Got eyes, or are those buttons? Did you buy those fake-looking eyes?” I snapped, dusting off my hoodie. My glare was sharp, my irritation clear.
