"Remember to set your alarm, Avery," my mother shouted from downstairs. Despite Katherine Montgomery's small stature, she had a loud, stern voice. I was in the middle of brushing my teeth, so I couldn't respond to her right away. "Avery! Did you hear what I just said?"

"Yes, Mom!" I opened the bathroom door so she could hear me clearly. "I got it. I'm brushing my teeth."

"Tomorrow is a big day. You need to be prepared in case you meet your soul mate."

Soul mate.

I shuddered. That word alone ignited the same reaction I got from watching a horror movie alone in my bedroom at midnight. I could always turn off the movie, but there was no escaping my fate.

I was seventeen now, but I would turn eighteen on December 22. I would be attending my first Gathering to awaken my clairaudient ability. Thinking about the long procession, the formality, and the fact that I had to dress up for the occasion was exhausting. After all, there was no guarantee that your soul mate would be at the Gathering in your first year—or even your fifth or sixth. Or even at all. Sometimes a Hellenicus died still waiting to meet their soul mate. My mom came upstairs and we met in the hallway.

"Hurry up and get to sleep. Eye bags aren't attractive."

"Mom, relax. Maybe I won't meet mine this year," I said.

"But maybe you will," she said. "I met your dad during my first Gathering. Not everyone's so lucky to meet their soul mate at their first Gathering, but we're the descendants of—"

"Tyche, the goddess of luck," I said, having been reminded at least a dozen times a day. Everyone knew that it was impossible for Regulars to trace their lineage, so it drove me crazy that she insisted we were the descendants of Tyche. I had just about the worst luck in the world, which convinced me that my mom had no idea what she was talking about.

"Exactly. We're descendants of the goddess of luck! You should know better that—"

What if she was right? What if I did meet my soul mate this year? My body instinctively shivered at the thought.

The other Hellenicus would be surprised if they knew how repulsed I was at the prospect of reuniting with my soul mate. Most claimed that having a soul mate was romantic and that we should be grateful for Apollo's gift of the click. But for me, having a soul mate was more like being subject to an arranged marriage that I could never run away from, even if I wanted to. Once I was Awakened, it would be possible for me to have a click that would cause my soul mate's mind to be instantly linked to mine. I would always be able to hear my soul mate's thoughts, and they would always be able to hear mine. If that wasn't a total breach of privacy, I didn't know what was. And the idea of being tied to someone I possibly didn't even know existed until the day we were revealed to be soul mates was the icing on the cake.

Honestly, I'd prefer to be a Nescient. At least they could ignore the whole soul-mate situation if they wanted to. Of course, this was all merely wishful thinking. As a Hellenicus I was destined to be reunited with my soul mate in the most invasive way possible.

"—girls pray to Aphrodite, wishing to be reunited with their soul mate as soon as possible. You should be praying too. Let me see if I can get—"

"Mom." I stopped her before she signed me up for some obscure Greek ritual that I didn't even know about. "It's late. Didn't you say you wanted me to get to sleep early?"

"Yes," she said. "Go back to your room and have a good rest."

I quickly headed to my bedroom before my mom had a change of heart. It was rare for us not to bicker, and I knew that I should cherish this moment. As I lay down on my bed and stared at the ceiling, I thought about how impossible it was to escape my destiny. It was so disheartening.

The Fates shaped each of our lives. They were the three weaving goddesses—Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos—who were in charge of assigning mortals to their destinies. From birth to death to how and when we would meet our other half, and even whether we would meet them in this lifetime—everything was in the hands of these three goddesses. If even the Great Zeus, king of the gods, could not overrule their decree, how did I stand a chance?

I reached for the shoe box hidden underneath my bed. This was my liberation. Since the day I had decided that I wanted none of this soul-mate business, I had been saving up every penny I had. There was a faded photo buried underneath the crumpled money stuffed inside the box. It was of a pale girl with insufferable auburn frizz for hair and dark-brown eyes that were too big for her small oval face. Next to her was an olive-skinned guy with dark hair. They were both smiling, wind blowing the hair from their faces, sunlight shining on their foreheads. Me and Bryan. Tears prickled the corners of my eyes, and I took a deep breath.

He was supposed to be here with me. We were supposed to escape together.

I wiped my tears away with my sleeves. I wished I could go a day, or even an hour, without thinking about him or being reminded of him, but it was impossible when everything and everywhere evoked something about him—even this room. He used to sit on the floor with me, and we'd spend hours talking about our dreams and what we wanted to do in life.

The Davises had moved next door ten years ago; they were Regulars too. While my house was always quiet, practically a ghost house, Bryan's had been the other way around. Every morning his mom turned on the radio and tuned into a country music channel while doing housework (I disliked country music because I'd heard more than my share of it). Despite going to the same school, Bryan and I never shared anything but awkward hellos for the first five years we lived next to each other.

But then his father kicked him out of the house. Six months ago, Bryan's mother had a terrible accident while hiking. She lost her footing and slid down the edge of the hill, hitting her head against a rock on the way down. She ended up in a coma. Instead of being there for his wife, Bryan's dad cozied up to a co-worker. Bryan found out about his dad's secret affair one day after coming home early from visiting his mom at the hospital.

With country music–free mornings, I had been getting used to sleeping in, but that morning, slapping, clacking, and crashing sounds jolted me awake. Bryan had confronted his dad bright and early, causing havoc before the birds had even started chirping. Everyone on our street heard the details of their argument, crystal clear. Disturbed by the noise, I ran to my window and caught sight of Bryan dashing out the front door, carrying nothing but his backpack. His usual slick, jet-black hair was disheveled, and his face was red with anger. Catching his breath, he brushed away a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead and looked back at his house before walking away. I watched him until I could no longer see any glimpse of his grey backpack and white sneakers.

My day went on much like it had begun, with my parents arguing. Most of their fight took place inside their heads, but every now and then my dad would shout, "Holy Zeus," and my mom would slam cupboards and doors. It wasn't enough to clue me in on the cause of their disagreement, but it was enough to make me want to lock myself in my room with my head hidden underneath my pillow. After I'd listened to them for the majority of the day, Mom called me downstairs to demand I go buy the sour cream that she'd forgotten at the grocery store. Something told me that they weren't arguing about the forgotten sour cream, but I was happy to have an excuse to get out of the house for some fresh air.

To avoid having to spend more time at home, I took the long route home after shopping and passed the playground. Bryan was sitting on the swing, his backpack flopped on the ground by his feet. He was staring at the ground, deep in thought, a frown wrinkled across his forehead and a yellowish bruise on his tear-stained cheek. It must have been tough to find out about your parent's infidelity and then, to top it all off, be kicked out for confronting them about it.

I must have said something out loud because suddenly Bryan lifted his face and our gazes met. The way he looked at me, with eyes the deepest shade of the richest earth, made me feel exposed. Neither of us knew what to say after what had happened earlier that day. So, hey, I also happen to think your dad is an asshole. Kudos on standing up to him for your mom, was definitely not a good conversation starter. Instead I squeaked out a lame, "Hi."

"Hey." He greeted me. "I'm sorry you had to hear all that. It probably ruined your morning and anyone else's who heard my fight with"—he paused as he appeared to have a battle in his head over what he should call his father, finally settling on—"Daniel."

"It's fine. I hope things get better, though," I said.

"I doubt it will. I mean, I'm here ready to sleep on the swing."

"I'd take the slide if I were you. At least you could lay on your back."

"Good idea." He smiled. His bottom teeth were slightly crooked but very white. "Maybe I'll do that."

I lifted my left wrist to check the time on my rectangle-shaped watch. If I stayed for another minute, my parents, particularly my dad, would call the swat team to look for me. He was that protective and paranoid. "Look, I have to get back. My parents will worry, so I'll see you around?"

"See you around, neighbor."

I felt guilty leaving him there, and I couldn't stop thinking about him for the rest of the evening.

For several nights in a row, once the sun had set, I would find something I needed to buy at the mini-mart—excuses to go out and meet Bryan. I'd bring him food and we'd talk about being Hellenicus and rant about all the Royal pain in the asses at school. One week went by and his dad had still not allowed him back home, so I offered to let him stay at my house. In secret, he'd climb in and out of my room using the tree outside my window. He'd sneak in late at night and leave early in the morning before my parents, or any of our prying neighbors, woke up.

We quickly became inseparable, partners in crime, each as silly as the other, and we did everything together. It was hard to describe the connection we had because I didn't fully understand it myself. It was as if we had always been friends even though it had only been a few weeks. He made me feel comfortable. I was myself around him, and he never judged me. Bryan was the only person I knew who understood what it was like to have a turbulent family life. I trusted him with everything.

Our friendship continued even after his mom finally awoke from her coma, returned home, and brought him home. Bryan would still sneak into my room when the rest of the neighborhood was asleep, and we'd talk for hours. He vented about what was going on at home, his parents' divorce, and how his mother cried herself to sleep every night, haunted by the fact that she was able to hear his father's thoughts about the other woman. Bryan cried as he poured his heart out. Together, we agreed that neither of us would ever experience the click—the invasion of privacy was too much. We had seen how it could all go wrong. If only his parents' minds were not linked, perhaps his mother could have moved on.

Then one night, while sitting on our favorite swing in the nearby park during one of our usual conversations, he told me he had feelings for me. I was stunned. I'd come to think of him as a brother. I couldn't say the one thing he wished to hear: that I felt the same way about him. The heart-wrenching look on his face, as if his whole world had crashed and burned, was one I would never forget—no matter how hard I tried.

The next day he texted me from our Hellenic school's library, saying he needed to tell me something urgently. I told him to come over, dreading the awkward conversation that would ensue. As I waited for him to arrive, an uneasy feeling grew in my stomach. Something, maybe intuition, informed me that something terrible was about to happen. Still, I waited and waited.

He never showed up. Bryan died in a car accident. That was over a year ago now, but I still missed him every second of every day. I also couldn't help feeling like it was my fault; if he hadn't been on his way to see me, he would still be alive today. We would be working on our escape plan together—counting our combined savings and deciding whether New York was too expensive for our budget. We had already agreed that a big city was our only option if we wanted to avoid being found by our parents. We could live peacefully among the Nescient, blissfully click-free.

I couldn't bear to look at the photo any longer so I put it back inside the shoe box, closed the lid, and pushed the box to the dark corner underneath the bed. I hated the idea of someone reading every passing thought I had inside my mind. I couldn't go through what Bryan's mom had. As cliché as it sounded, I wanted a normal life—free from all the sacred rituals and important celebrations. The fact that I'd also be free from all the Royals who always looked at me as if I was below them—as if I was less than them—was a generous bonus.

Without Bryan, though, I couldn't escape on my own. The thought of being on the road alone terrified me, and I hadn't saved up enough, anyway. It seemed like I was stuck going to Court after all.

My parents were busy preparing for my first Gathering. My mom insisted it'd help to take my mind off of Bryan's death if I immersed myself in the rituals. While everyone with royal blood in their veins received an invitation, Regulars had to travel all the way to Court a year early to sign up and get their photographs taken in order to participate. My dad had made me go to Court with him so I could sign up. Getting my photo taken as I stood against the wall next to a water dispenser had been embarrassing enough—the photo looked like a mug shot—but the worst part of the whole ordeal was that I had to wait for hours outside the gate at the security office while my dad was inside finishing the necessary paperwork. Those who were not of royal blood and had not been to their first Gathering couldn't enter the Court, which was why we had to have our parents come with us.

I'd spent the first hour alone. Then he was there with his hazel eyes and raven hair, exchanging some heated words with the guard at the security gate. He was undoubtedly the most handsome person I'd ever seen. His whole demeanor changed from frustrated to intrigued when he noticed me gawking, and he strolled confidently over.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"Some bullshit about me not being able to get back into the Court grounds after leaving. I was only outside for a minute! I needed a little walk to get some air. But apparently I need to wait for verification to get back in." He glared at the guard before softening his expression again. "But it looks like I'm in good company now. I'm Carlo."

"Avery," I said, my face flushing.

We had only used only our first names. I didn't know his family name, and he didn't know mine. We didn't know each other's Hellenicus status, and for the first time, it felt normal and refreshing to be Avery—not Avery Montgomery, the mere Regular.

I lost track of time as we sat outside the gate of the security office, chatting for hours. Carlo reminded me of Bryan in so many ways. He had a way of speaking to me, just as Bryan had, that made me feel safe, and the conversation flowed naturally between us. In the short time we spent together that day, we learned so much about each other.

"When you finally become a pilot, where will you fly your plane first?" Carlo asked.

"I don't think I can choose where to go. I'll have to go wherever they tell me to," I said.

"Maybe. But it's your dream, right?" Carlo grinned. "Maybe you could work for the Court? I heard they recently bought another jet. They will let you go for your first trip."

There was no way I could handle having snobby Royals as my passengers. Since Carlo could be a Royal and might be offended by this sentiment, I didn't say this out loud.

Perhaps my true feelings showed on my face, because after a short while, Carlo said, "Probably not a good idea." It was almost as if he had read my mind. He leaned forward and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "There are a lot of vexing people around here—some might even call them assholes." I couldn't help laughing, and his eyes lit up, knowing he was the source of my amusement. "Anyway, it's your dream, Avery—you can be and do whatever you want. You just have to have enough courage and willpower to pursue it."

"What about you? What do you want to be?"

"I want to be a teacher."

"What kind of teacher? Math? Biology? High school or college?"

"High school teacher, and yes, you guessed right, I want to teach math. I love math, and I want to break the perception that it's a boring or tough subject."

"Good luck with that. With the math mark on my report card, I won't be changing my mind about that subject any time soon."

"I'll take that as a challenge," he said. "Are you nervous about this whole thing? You're preparing for your first Gathering, right?"

"Yeah." It took a while for me to find my voice again, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. If Bryan were still here, I wouldn't be going through any of this. My heart ached as the memories of Bryan came flooding back to me. I looked up, trying to keep my tears from spilling. A soft, warm hand cupped mine.

"You lost someone you love."

It was more of a statement than a question, but I answered it nonetheless as I shook my head. "I lost someone who loved me. I didn't have time to figure out my own feelings. But I think I lost my chance at happiness."

"Do you think this person was the one?"

"I don't know." I shrugged helplessly. "We aren't supposed to know until we have a click, are we not?"

"Yes. We have to have a click to know for sure." A look of disappointment flashed across his face. "This year will be my fourth Gathering, but I still haven't met my other half. We just have to trust the Fates, I guess."

The Fates. The mention of them got me frustrated in an instant.

"Don't you get tired of waiting? You've wasted four years waiting for your soul mate." He looked like he was about to interject in protest, but decided to simply clamp his mouth shut and listen. "What if you don't meet your soul mate again this year? What if next year you don't either? And the year after that?"

It was only when he squeezed his hand that I realized he was still holding mine. "Avery, I understand what you mean, and these four years haven't exactly been filled with patience either," Carlo said, shaking his head lightly. "Maybe for you it's a waste of time, but for some people, for me anyway, it's not. After all, we're not waiting for a pizza delivery; we're waiting for our literal other half, the other half of our soul. Whoever it might be, they will make it worth all the years I've spent waiting."

"You can just as easily meet a nice person and have a shot at happiness."

"Maybe," Carlo said. "But they wouldn't be my other half. Besides, what if one day I have a click? I would end up hurting two people, not just one."

"You're just going to wait?"

"Of course."

"What if your soul mate never comes? What if you waste your whole life waiting for someone who never shows up?"

"Then I shall meet my soul mate in my next life."