Page 20 of The Fate Factor

“I ran into Jamie last night. JamieBishop.”

She makes a face, then it dawns on her. “Wait. Roof Guy?” She slaps her thigh. “Holy shit, the one whose future you told?”

“I didn’t tell his future,” I snap, then bite down on my lip again so hard I taste copper. My standard response to this has recently taken on an air of mistruth, if not become an outright lie. After last night, it seems as though I really did tell his freaking future.

Kate pushes herself to the edge of the stool she’s perched on. “How the hell did you run into Jamie Bishop? I texted you at eight and you said you were going to bed.”

“You’re never going to believe this.” Actually she will and I know exactly what she’s going to say. Kate spent a good six months after that party insisting that the universe was telling me something and that I should “ignore it at my own peril.”

I tell her the whole ridiculous story—finding Jamie bloody and concussed on my porch, how I thought I was going to be murdered. About the long night at the ER where a couple hours into the reunion, another relationship of his ended abruptly.

I tell her that his family owns the house next door, and based on the timeline he gave me, we most definitely had some overlapping nights here. When I’m finished, she stares at me, jaw unhinged.

I flap my hands, blowing some much needed air on my face. “Say something!”

“I can’t believe it worked that quickly,” she breathes.

“What? What worked?”

“Oh, comeon, Noel! You come here on a retreat to figure out what’s going to snap you out of this emotional rut, andboomthe universe drops the hot guy who starred in your post-coital psychic vision on your literal doorstep.”

I scrunch my face at the word post-coital. “The retreat thing was your idea,” I tell her. “I’m only mildly participating.”

“Liar! This is exactly why you came here. Open the gates. Find something you love. Does any of this ring a bell?”

“I was thinking more like how much I love walking along the cobblestones downtown or smelling the salt water when I wake up. The seagulls.”

Kate groans. “No one loves seagulls, you dork.”

“I do!”

“Oh, really?” She throws the wet dish towel at my head. “Is it their beady eyes? The way they eat trash?”

I toss it back harder. “It’s the way they shit on my car.” I trail off into a laugh and Kate joins, but I know it’s only a stay of execution. She won’t drop this.

“Ugh. Even if I wanted to believe this is meant to be, who am I for the universe to intervene in my love life? Why not just let me struggle on Tinder like everyone else?”

“Maybe not everyone else asks.”

I pull back, eyes wide. “I didnotask for this.”

“No, but you played with the candle that night knowing how much Nana believed in it.”

“I poured wax into a Solo cup as ajoke. That’s hardly a plea for supernatural intervention.” Though, my guilty conscience reminds me that I did know this was never a joke to Nana. Her predictions were always frivolous and light—a kiss from a boy (Kate), the winning goal in a soccer tournament (me), but even though the consequences may have been frivolous, her belief in it wasn’t. She was all in.

My brain flashes with the little plea I sent up to the sky last night before falling asleep:Don’t let it be too hard to find.

No. No, no,no. Am I here to try to wrestle some feeling back into my life? Sure. But the cosmos guiding Jamie to collapse on my doorstep because we’re supposed to fall in love?That’sridiculous.

“It’s a small city. A coincidence,” I tell her and myself. “And for the hundredth time, we have no idea if it was a vision.”

Except the belly button thing, and the haircut, his thriving small business that he straight up told me he only has because of that night…My heart takes off in a sprint.

“Whatever it was,” Kate says, “it was you and himnaked.”

“I can’t stand you. Truly.” I twirl a lock of hair around my finger and tug.

Kate knows me well enough to see this for what it is. A stress response. A nervous tic. This whole thing is so far beyond my comfort zone that I’m led to believe just those few hours withJamie Freaking Bishopcould count as a life-altering experience. Check the box and head home.

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