Chapter 1 Chicago mornings
Incipit
Keisha hated mornings.
Especially the ones when her alarm didn’t go off—ormaybe she just ignored it, buried under the blankets until her mom’s voice cutthrough the thin walls of their South Side apartment.
“Keisha! Get up, you’re late again!”
She groaned, pulled the pillow over her head, andwished for five more minutes of sleep. But school didn’t care about wishes, andneither did volleyball practice. With a frustrated sigh, she jumped out of bed,throwing on the first pair of jeans she found and a sweatshirt that stillsmelled faintly of yesterday’s gym. The whole apartment carried the warm scentof fried plantains her mother had cooked for breakfast, but Keisha barely hadtime to grab a piece of toast before sprinting out the door.
Chicago in the morning was cold and loud, the windslapping against her face as she hurried down the street. Her backpack thumpedagainst her shoulder, and somewhere in the rush, she thought: Fifteen years old and already living in fast forward.
At school, the hallways buzzed with voices, lockersslamming, sneakers squeaking on linoleum floors. Keisha’s two best friends,Marisol and Tasha, spotted her rushing in and immediately started laughing.
“You’re late again, girl,” Marisol teased, flippingher long hair over her shoulder.
“Coach gonna kill you,” Tasha added, grinning.
Keisha rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at herlips. “Yeah, yeah. Save the lecture.”
The three of them walked toward class together,weaving through the crowd. Marisol was already whispering about some boy frommath class, and Tasha, as always, brought up her favorite topic: soulmates.
“You know what I read?” Tasha said, eyes sparkling.“In Japan, they believe in a red string of fate. It connects you to yoursoulmate, no matter where they are in the world. Imagine that your person couldbe anywhere.”
Keisha laughed out loud. “Girl, please. You soundlike some cheesy Netflix drama. Ain’t nobody out there tied to me by someinvisible string.”
“But what if?” Marisol asked, her tone suddenlyserious. “What if yours is, like, in another country right now? Waiting?”
Keisha shook her head, shoving open her locker. “Ifhe’s in another country, then I guess I’ll never know. And that’s fine. I’vegot volleyball, school, and enough drama right here.”
Still, when she closed the locker and caught her ownreflection in the dented metal, something flickered in her chest. Curiosity.Just for a second. Then she pushed it away.
Keisha didn’t know it yet, but far away, on anisland she’d never even visited, a boy her age was also running late. Differentlanguage, different dreams, but the same restless energy in his chest.
And though they didn’t know each other, an invisiblethread had already begun to tighten.
