KAIA'S P.O.V.



Two Years Earlier



My mind should've been on the road – but it was drifting into a daydream, getting lost in a tangled thought about my mother. I hated driving on the highway. It was late in the afternoon and there were six lanes of thick, bumper to bumper traffic. There wasn't much hope in getting home this way. I decided to go towards the exit.

Once I was safely back on the streets and avenues, I veered in the direction of our house. Doubting myself, I pivoted too sharp without fully looking at my mirrors.

My neck whipped forward, slamming on the breaks as hard as I could. The attempt wasn't fast enough, getting hit from a red car to my left side. I squinted at the driver near me, seeing it was a man with black shades on. Turning on the hazard lights for my car, I pulled over to the shoulder of the road where other cars were parallel parked. We were, at most, two minutes away from my house. I was so close from almost making it back home in one piece.

"I'm so so sorry," the man said after exiting his car. He pushed down the shades from his sun kissed face, revealing stunning hazel eyes that pierced right through me like a blade. "Are you hurt at all? I saw it looked like you banged your head."

"I didn't."

"Are you sure?"

"I'll be okay." I examined the exterior of his car where our two cars joined, leaving a minor paint scratch against the metal. "Oh, there's barely a mark."

"I'm still extremely sorry," he insisted, "I feel at fault."

"Don't be." I waved him off. "My dumbass didn't put on my turn signal."

"You did. You shouldn't say that about yourself," he said softly. "Do you go to Stanford?"

He was reading the university name off my sweater. I nearly laughed at the implication. "Nah, pretty sure I stole it from someone." He chuckled at the joke. "I'm kidding. I never finished high school."

"That's okay. Neither did P!nk and I think she's fucking great. She dropped out of high school to pursue her music career."

"I'm sure that's the same educational background for most musical artists."

"Unless you're talking about Megan thee Stallion."

"I don't know who that is."

"You look younger than me."

"Thanks?"

"I mean – don't you have any socials?"

"I do have a social security number."

"No," he stared at me, speaking slower, "A social media account."

I didn't - but I couldn't let him know that. Anytime I said I was off the internet, most people my age looked at me like I sprouted a third eye in the middle of my forehead.

"I'm not that interested in following you, if that's where this is going."

Oooh, that stung him. But he mustered it the best way he could.

His smile grew to hide his pain. Digging into his back pocket, he got out his license and insurance information. "Then you can just give me your information."

Another thing I didn't have...

I gulped loudly. "I thought it wasn't that much of a problem."

"We still had an accident. I need to report this." But before he could let me say anything else, the expression on his face transformed into something unreadable. "I could forget about it."

"That would be nice."

"Under one condition."

Oh, for fuck-sakes, why are men like this?

Why must things be transactional? I was ready to blow up on this stranger, show him a piece of my mind, but the level of bystanders made me hesitate. He wouldn't be that bold...would he?

"What did you have in mind?" I asked. "I'm busy at the moment."

"I can wait a while," he disclosed, sliding his shades up his freckled nose. "I wanted to see if you were interested in getting a drink some time."

"Only a drink?"

He popped a brow in curiosity. "Maybe some good, honest conversation, too. I could probably be talked into splitting some fries or egg rolls."

My hitch breath released, relaxing into the bumper of my car. "I'd be up for that. When would you want to do this?"

"Tonight," he insisted. He looked out into the sky, watching as the sun dipped further into the horizon. The hours were slipping away. "You did say you were busy, though."

"I could be free in two hours."



"Perfect."

*****

I arrived at the address he gave me, dressed in something short. My intentions weren't to show up fifteen minutes early, but my navigation was wrong about its calculations. Had I come at the correct time, then perhaps I wouldn't have seen the scene I walked into.

On the curb, fixing the collar of his shirt, I saw Lawrence hopping into the same exact restaurant that I was seconds away from entering. Opening the door now seemed like a task that I no longer wanted to do. My family would be livid if they knew I was about to spend time with a human – especially someone who they didn't do a vicious and lengthy background check on.

A heartbeat after walking in, I saw my own father.

The place was completely empty. No wait staff. No customers.

"Beverly," my dad called for me. "You honestly showed up? I thought better of you."

My blood went ice cold. "You....what the hell are you doing here?"

"I set this up. I'm the reason you're here. It was a test," he said, leaning in forward, "And sweetheart, I thought you would've passed. I thought you would've realized that there was a man following you on the highway. You didn't seem to care...or are you just that desperate for the embrace of a mortal?"

"Whoa." Jamila stood up, appearing out of nowhere. "I didn't think that was your big idea—that's sick. I'm out of here. I don't want to be part of this."

"Take me with you," Lawrence chimed in.

Barreling after them, I caught hold of Jamila's coat sleeve. "You knew about this...I know you did. You can pretend like you're shocked, but I bet you helped him set this all up."

"No, I didn't," she refused to admit, shaking me off of her. "Your dad came up with this all on his own. Are you surprised? I'm not. He hasn't been the same since those witch hunters killed your mom."

"That was years ago."

"And he still hasn't remarried," Lawrence reminded. "Maybe consider the fact that he's afraid of losing you the same way he lost her. She trusted a woman she thought would be her friend. It's only natural that's he's looking out for you."

"Shut-up, Lawrence, no one asked you," I said with fire in my breath. "I don't need some stupid test to prove anything about me. I'm smart enough to save myself."

--

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Please vote and comment if you're enjoying this story :)

So sorry for the slow updates - but I got into UCLA this April! Please understand that I'll always prioritize my education. I don't get paid from wattpad (at least not anymore) and I'm doing this entirely so that I can grow as a storyteller. Writing is something I do for fun. I will always write free stories on this site - you can count on that.

Please be patient with me as I write and update.

Considering classes don't start until September 20-something, I'm going to try and work on this as much as I can.