Lyla James and Haiden Lucas are stuck in an endless cycle marked by fated encounters, tainted love, and tragic deaths.
*****
In one hundred different realities, one thing remains...
WARNING: This story contains content that depicts death, substance abuse, terminal illness, sexual harassment, mentions of abuse, mental health crisis such as depression and anxiety, and suicide that may be upsetting for some readers. Any depictions of mental health issues herein are not meant as a replacement for medical care. If you or someone you know in the U.S. is contemplating suicide, please encourage them to call 988 or visit 988lifeline.org. For international resources, please visit: http://www.suicide.org/hotlines/international-suicide-hotlines.html.
Reader discretion is advised.
[ Part 1 ]
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Lyla James was pissed.
Miss Wyatt had gone mad—Lyla was sure of it.
A C? A fucking C? She was crazy. Biology was Lyla's best subject—ask anyone (and by anyone, Lyla meant her mom)—and she was Ernest Hemingway when it came to essays. In fact, that essay had probably been the best one Lyla had ever written in her life, and that's why she knew Miss Wyatt must have skipped her pills.
Lyla's attempt at a civil conversation had been a bust. She'd cited all the reasons the C had to be some sort of mistake (her spotless record and adherence to the rubric among her points), but Wyatt simply wouldn't budge. That was when Lyla got that crazy look in her eye and decided to walk out of the room before throwing a chair at the woman's face.
The reason for the C? Lyla's work lacked passion.
But who the fuck needed passion when you were Albert fucking Einstein reincarnated?
Lyla had gone straight to the main office then, but Principal Yancy—like the traitor she was—had sided with Wyatt. So Lyla had settled on doing the only thing she could do: rant about the unfairness of it all to Sirah.
Lyla saw the light...the light being the fact that every staff member at Trellis High was honestly out to get her. She walked into the school cafeteria with her essay clenched in her fist and a few colorful expletives on her lips. Halfway across the room, though, she realized that Sirah wasn't at their cafeteria table yet...which meant that the table was completely deserted.
Yeah, Sirah Hassan was Lyla's only friend, but what else was new? Since moving to Trellis her freshman year, Lyla had worked pretty hard at fading into the background, and it had actually proved more difficult than she'd thought. Trellis was the sort of town where newcomers were a rare and intriguing breed, and it was even worse if you were new to Trellis High. No one minded their own damn business, and her teachers had tried to do that "introduce yourself in front of the entire class" thing on her first day there.
Lyla, however, had dealt with them as she dealt with most everything in life—by staring the fuck out of it until it backed down. Of course, this tactic wasn't effective 100% of the time (Miss Wyatt, anyone?), but as Lyla slipped into a seat at her cafeteria table, she hoped that it would be good enough in this instance.
