by Kiru Taye
Bound To Fate
Bound Series: Book 1
By
Kiru Taye
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are
used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Bound to Fate
Smashwords Edition
ISBN: 9781311035653
Copyright© 2011 Kiru Taye
Editor: Zee Monodee
Cover Artist: Love Bites and Silk
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used
or reproduced electronically or in print without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in reviews.
Kiru Taye
www.kirutaye.com
Blurb
Lara Johnson is coping with the emotional scars of losing both parents in a tragic incident and facing the challenges of starting a new school. Getting involved in a relationship isn't on her priority list. Certainly not this illicit desire for a man, who demands the best from her, yet leaves her breathless in his presence.
All Ike Thomas wants to do is to keep out of trouble and get through the one year internship required for his degree program. But trouble finds him, in the form of an intelligent and brave girl who turns his world upside down. Falling in love is forbidden. So why does it feel so right?
A love like theirs cannot be denied. But catastrophe lies in wait and one night changes their lives forever.
Bound to Fate is a story about surviving tragedy, forgiveness, and the overwhelming love that pulls through against the odds.
Content warning: This book contains scenes that might be triggering for some readers.
Acknowledgments
Writing can be a lonely process but a group of fabulous beta readers make it a wonderful experience. This story wouldn't have turned out the way it did without the encouragement of Queenie, Henza, Kemi, Chinwe, Bimbo, Sola and Lara. I love you, ladies.
I have to mention my fabulous editor, Zee, who helped me polish the story and make it shine. Every book needs a good editor and she is a fabulous one.
And my family who have learned to be patient with me when I'm in the middle of writing a book and everything else takes a back seat. I love you all.
And of course, I can't forget you the wonderful readers who kept faith with me and picked up a copy of this. You make it all worthwhile. Thank you!
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my beautiful mother.
Chapter One
This is the first day of the rest of your life.
Lara Johnson chanted the words as she trudged down the stairs from her bedroom, her school bag slung across her shoulder. The phrase had been one her mother had taught her to use when the weight of her troubles threatened to crash down on her.
Hollowness in her chest reminded her that her world had ended three months previously.
The familiar crashing and smashing sounds of the Tom and Jerry cartoon coming from the television drew her into the living room. Lola, her younger sister by two years, reclined on a cream upholstered sofa, her school bag abandoned on the carpeted floor at her feet. In her hands, she held her Blackberry and tapped away at the keyboard with her thumbs. She appeared as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Lara sometimes wondered how they could be related, because just as she proved to be an introvert, Lola was the opposite.
The tap, tap of footsteps in the hallway had Lara reaching for the remote control to switch off the television.
“Are you girls ready to go?” Judy called out. As their mother’s younger sister, she had become their guardian after their parents died in a car crash.
“Yes, Aunty,” Lara replied. “Come on, Lola.”
Ignoring everything else, her sister carried on texting for a few more seconds as if whoever was on the other end of the virtual conversation proved more important at this moment. She wouldn’t move until the last second.
Lara heaved a sigh and strode across the room. She grabbed Lola’s bag and dumped it on her lap.
Lola lifted her head and gave her the evil eye. “What?”
“Aunty's waiting. Or do you want to walk to school on your first day?”
“I don’t care. I don’t want to go to this school, anyway.”
Despite the grumbling, her sister got off the sofa with her bag and headed outside.
Lara shook her head as she followed, switching off the ceiling fan on the way. She had misgivings, too, about starting a new school, especially in her senior year when she needed to prepare for final exams. Neither of them had had any choice but to move after tragedy had befallen them.
Outside, a breeze flapped the admiral-blue skirt around her knees and the rising sun reflected off the small pools of water on the concrete driveway from the rain that had fallen at dawn. She checked her bag for her small umbrella, not wanting to get soaked if it rained again later.
For October, the temperature felt cooler and fresher than the humid heat she’d been used to in Lagos. From what she’d learnt in geography, Enugu lay over two hundred metres above sea level compared to Lagos’s eleven metres.
The engine of the silver Honda CR-V revved, making her flinch. Against the background of the quiet neighbourhood, the sound became augmented, especially this early in the morning. Her gaze darted to the car. Judy already sat in the driver’s position and Lola climbed in beside her.
“Lara, lock the door,” her aunt called out through the open window.
“Okay.” Puffing out a breath, she pulled out the bunch of keys she’d been given and did as instructed.
In her old house, she’d been used to securing the premises when going out. As the oldest child, many similar responsibilities fell on her shoulders. She didn’t have the luxury of sitting in the car messaging friends on BBM like Lola while someone else did the chores. Then again, these little chores kept her busy with less time to think about the dreadful past. Or scary future.
With the lock in place, she returned her bunch into the bag and hurried to the vehicle now facing towards the gates. She pulled the door and climbed into the back seat.
The grating sound of metal on metal made her wince as the watchman tugged open the gates and they drove out. Today, her senses seemed more acutely sensitive to sounds as her anxiety spiked. Her foot bounced against the floor mat, making her black patent leather shoes squeak. She pressed her palms on her knees to stop the restless motion.
“Aunty, do we really have to go to this school? Can’t we go back to our old school?” Lola asked in a sweet voice, finally putting aside the phone. “I’m sure they’ll take us back. No problem.”
“No, you can’t, sweetie.” Judy gave her a glance. “We discussed this already. You need to stay with me for now. You’ll get used to the new school in no time.”
There were a few other reasons they couldn’t go back to their old school, even if their aunt didn’t say them out loud. For one, it had been an expensive boarding school. Secondly, it lay over five hundred kilometres away in Lagos State while their aunt lived in Enugu State. And according to the bereavement counsellor, they needed to be around family.
“Aunty's house is nicer than boarding school,” Lara chimed in. Although she missed the familiarity of her old school friends—not that she ever had that many—she wouldn’t swap it for the security and compassion she’d received from Judy, who’d taken them in as if they were her own. Especially as they hadn’t seen much of the woman since they were little.
; “You say that because you didn’t have many friends,” Lola said in a sarcastic voice. “I did.”
“Honey, I know you miss your friends from your old school, but you’ll make new ones here, too. So don’t worry about it. You’ll both be fine.” Judy squeezed Lola’s shoulder.
“Okay,” her sister said in a resigned voice.
“Lara, you remember where to go to get the registration sorted out?” Judy asked.
“Yes. The school admin office.”
“Good. Once you show them the letter, they will let you know where to go. I won’t be able to come and pick you after school. But the two of you can take a taxi home together since it’s the first day. You will have to take the bus home next time.”
“Thank you, Aunty,” they both chorused.
Thirty minutes later, they stood in front of the school gates. Tens of kids in blue and white uniform milled around or headed into buildings.
“Hi, Lola!” someone called out.
Lola waved back.
“You know that girl?” Lara asked, astonished since her sister hadn’t mentioned she knew anyone in this school.
Lola shrugged. “She lives on the same street as Aunty Judy.”
“How do you know anyone already? We’ve only been in Enugu for a month.”
“You’re the one who chooses to lock yourself away in the house all the time. Anyway, where’s this admin office we’re supposed to find?”
Lara breath hitched and she felt as if she’d been hit with a sledgehammer. She bit back a retort and shook her head. She hadn’t been locking herself away. She’d been in mourning.
Then again, she shouldn’t be surprised about Lola. Her sister was pretty and had been popular at their last school. It looked like she would fit right in at Hillcrest.
As for herself, her goals for the year were simple—pass her exams and gain a university place. She didn’t need the attention, and if no one accepted her, she would just have to cope with it as best she could.
“It’s this way.” She pointed to a sign on the wall and they headed in that direction.
Half an hour later, they’d filled out forms and were directed to their classes. Lola’s were in a different building from hers.
“Do you want to meet for lunch?” Lara asked.
Lola shrugged and started walking off.
“If you need anything, just call or text me,” Lara said.
“Yeah. Stop fussing, will you?” Glancing back, Lola rolled her eyes and walked off.
Lara couldn’t help fussing. Lola was the only member of her family she had left. Okay, she had Judy, but it wasn’t the same thing. She’d taken care of her sister since she was a baby and always felt responsible for her, even more so now that their parents were gone.
Sighing, she turned and hurried across the walkway to the class building. Students gazed at her but no one spoke to her. She kept her chin up and her shoulders stiff, determined to project confidence and determination. The truth was, she wasn’t very good with change. Unlike Lola who complained about it and seemed to adapt a whole lot quicker.
By the time she arrived at the door to the correct class, it was already shut and the class seemed to be in session. She paused, brushed her palm over her braided hair packed in a ponytail style, and took a deep breath. Then she turned the metal handle, pushed the door open, and walked in.
The class was silent as they listened to the teacher but a murmur passed when she closed the door behind her.
A middle-aged man in brown jacket and trouser suit, white and green striped shirt, and a plain green tie stood at the front. Focusing on him, she walked over.
“Mr. Ejiofor?” When he nodded, she handed over the sheet of paper she’d been given at the office. “I was asked to give you this.”
He took the paper and read it.
“We have a new student joining the class today.” He glanced at the paper again. “This is Lara Johnson.”
Clutching her hands to the back to hide their shaking, she turned to face the class. Big windows sat on the side. The back wall was plain white with a white board over it. On the side wall next to the door was a geopolitical map of the world.
The students sat in columns of two per desk in six columns and four rows. All of them stared at her with different degrees of curiosity.
Lara swallowed, her shoulders tightening. She hated being the centre of attention and even more so to a group of strangers. Her darting gaze caught onto another girl in the front row who smiled at her. There was an empty seat next to her. The only empty seat.
Mr. Ejiofor picked a book from the pile in front of him and handed it over to her. “Take a seat, Lara.”
“Thank you,” she mouthed and walked over to the empty chair quickly. The sooner she sat down, the sooner everyone else would stop staring at her. She dumped her bag on the aisle beside her and placed the book on the desk top.
The girl next to her turned and smiled. She was the picture of wholesome perfection. Her straight hair was packed neatly into a ponytail, not one strand out of place. Her school uniform was creaseless and fitted, unlike Lara’s which needed adjusting around the waist. Her oval face was smooth and lovely, no acne in sight. Even the cheer in her curled lips and the twinkle in her brown eyes showed she was a happy and content girl.
Lara hadn’t been happy or content in months.
“I’m Ada Obi. Welcome to Hillcrest School,” the girl said in a low voice. “If you need someone to show you around, I can help you.”
Lara gave a small smile as some of the tension left her body. Someone was being nice to her. Perhaps she’d make a new friend, after all. “Ada, thank you.”
Mr. Ejiofor resumed the lesson in English Literature. Luckily, she’d bought a copy and already started reading the assigned book so she didn’t feel too lost in the class discussion although she didn’t attempt to raise her hand to answer any questions and the teacher didn’t bother directing any queries at her. She managed to sit up straight instead of slumping under the melancholic weight that rested on her shoulders.
Time flew quickly and Mr. Ejiofor left. During the break before the next teacher arrived, the class erupted into chaos.
Shifting in the seat, Lara picked out her timetable and checked the next lesson. Geography—a subject she wasn’t so good at.
Flicking the page of the textbook, she glanced at the door. A boy stood there as if on sentry duty, watching for the arrival of the next teacher. The flutter of the sheet did little to calm her nerves as it should. In her old school, she’d acquired the nickname ‘Bookworm’ because she loved immersing herself into the knowledge hidden between the covers of the printed work.
Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the words on the page. Aside from noting the topic of the chapter as ‘Population Change,’ none of the text registered.
First day back at school for a new term usually didn’t leave her this agitated. She loved school. But while it was the first day back for her, the school had been back for a few weeks already. She’d missed weeks of lessons and studying.
She sucked in a deep breath and gave another glance at the door. The student standing at the entrance hadn’t moved, although his attention was focused on the chaos in class rather than checking if the Geography teacher was on the way.
The churning in her stomach returned, her breathing accelerated. Crossing her arms over on the desk, she lowered her head and started blowing out short breaths.
I can do this. I’m just sitting in a room with other students. Nothing bad will happen.
Breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth, she repeated the calming actions.
Where was the teacher? Perhaps if he turned up, her anxiety would ease just as it had done in the literature lesson.
She’d been having panic attacks since the traffic accident. The doctor had offered to sign her off school for another week or month if she didn’t feel ready to be here. Her physical wounds had healed. Mentally, she didn’t know if she’d be e
ver fully recovered.
Tired of hiding from the world, she had to face her life. Face her future, such as it was.
Lifting her head, her gaze swept the class. No one else seemed interested in preparing for the next subject. Not even the girl sitting next to her. She seemed rapt on a lanky male student who was telling a story. His hand and body movements as well as the jokes he cracked identified him as the class comedian. They’d had a similar boy in her last school.
“What’s his name?” Lara asked in a low voice. She couldn’t be sure Ada heard her above the raucous sound of laughter.
Giggling, the girl turned to look at her. “That’s Jimoh. He thinks he’s the next Basketmouth.”
With a half-smile, Lara’s raised a brow in confusion. “Basketmouth?”
“Come on. You know Basketmouth?”
“Yes, I do.” She chuckled. “He’s good but not as good as a popular Nigerian stand-up comedian.” She tilted her head in the direction of some girls sitting in the middle row who’d been staring at her and not so nicely. “What about those girls over there?”
“Oh, that’s Princess Gloria and her coterie.”
“Coterie?”
“You know? Gang, Pack, Clique, Circle. Don’t mind me. I like big words.” Ada chuckled again.
Warmth spread across Lara’s chest as a big smile filled her face. She liked this girl a lot already.
“Is she really a princess?”
“No, she’s not. We call her Princess because she walks around as if her father is the Obi of Onitsha.”
Lara glanced at the girl again and she did have a haughty air about her, with the tilt of her raised nose and the group surrounding her.
White paper planes making turbulent journeys above heads bobbing with raucous laughter snagged her attention next. Most of the boys sat on their desk instead of the appointed chairs, either cloistered in smaller groups or listening in on the more general conversation.