Lunchtime

The next time he saw her was at lunch. She was sitting by herself at the base of a tree, poring over the notes he'd given her. As it turned out, they were taking a lot of the same classes, though at different times.

Destiny was...interesting. She was as serious about class work as he, though she wasn't sure what she wanted to do after high school and college. When he'd asked, she'd blown it off with something about being satisfied to survive the day. Not a view he agreed with--or understood--but he respected her opinion.

He walked over, lunch tray in hand. She looked up and smiled. "Hi, Tristan."

"Hi, Destiny." He sat next to her. "Why aren't you eating?"

"Not hungry." She shrugged and changed the subject. "You take good notes."

"Thanks." He took a bite of his lunch, cafeteria spaghetti. "Made any friends yet?"

"Hm." She tilted her head to the side, thinking. "Well, I met a freshman named Blair and a sophomore named Jared. They're pretty nice."

Tristan frowned. "Jared Ferrell? Brown hair, kind of short?"

"That's him."

"I think I've seen him around." Just last period, in fact. Tristan had never really noticed Jacob before, but during chemistry he couldn't help it. The same thing that made Destiny different was affecting Jared. "Maybe I should meet Blair. You said she's a freshman?"

Neither her tone nor her expression changed, but something told Tristan that his words had made her nervous. Very nervous indeed. "Yeah, but maybe you shouldn't. She's afraid of her own shadow, there's no telling how she'll react to you."

"What're you worried about?" He kept his eyes on the tray. "I'm not scary."

"No, you're not, but she wouldn't talk to me for the first half of the period."

"I still don't see why I can't talk to her."

Destiny rolled her eyes. "Fine. You want to meet her, then find her. She looks like a blonde pixie and usually hides out in the library." She stood and picked up her bag. "I have to go find my next class. Later, Tristan."

She left, leaving Tristan to wonder just what Destiny Hunt was trying to hide.

First Encounters

He first saw her almost three days ago. Though not exactly where things had gone wrong, it seemed to be where those things had begun. Before then, he hadn't seen any other weird things. Before then, he'd been just a normal guy.

His name was Tristan Young. He was seventeen years old, with curly black hair that was forever falling into his hazel eyes. He was a good student, kind of quiet and distant. He focused on his studies to the exclusion of almost everything else, with the goal of being a lawyer in mind. He'd been that way for years, but not forever. He just didn't care to socialize, and could usually be found reading over his notes before a class, instead of talking and joking like the rest of his peers.

Tuesday was no different. It was first period, and though class wouldn't start for another seven or eight minutes, Tristan was ready to take notes on the lecture of the day. He shut out the noise of everyone else as he always did, but for some reason he heard the door open. He glanced up, took note of the slender girl that walked in, then returned to his notes. She was unfamiliar, but there wasn't anything unusual about that. For all he knew, they'd been going to the same school since the seventh grade.

Then he frowned and looked up again. She was talking to the teacher, again not unusual, but there was something different about her. Something he couldn't put his finger on. It was a kind of...aura? Was that the right word for it?

She shook the teacher's hand, and he could have sworn something passed through the contact. She tossed her thick, golden-brown braid over her shoulder and met his eyes, green-gold to hazel. She walked to his table and said, "Hi. My name's Destiny. Destiny Hunt. Mr. Richards said you'd be able to help me catch up."

He blinked and shook it off. "Um, yeah. What've you missed?"

"I just transferred here, actually. I'd be grateful for any help you can give me." Destiny smiled, a small grin that made him smile too.

"Sure. Got some time?"

"Nothing but." She sat in the chair next to him and put her bag on the floor. Something on her forehead glinted, but before Tristan could take another look she said, "Where should we start?"

Prologue

He stumbled over another root and asked, "Why are we going through the park again?"

"Just keep following me" was the answer.

"I can't follow you, I can't see! And where are we going?"

His guide stopped and gave a frustrated sigh. "We're going to my house. It's the closest entrance, and we're using the shortest path."

"Entrance to where?"

"Just follow me." She started moving again, and he groaned as he tried to figure out where, exactly, things had gone wrong.