A Twist of Fate

Clark Kent

She's seven when she meets Bora on a sleepy Sunday morning.

She hates Sundays, her parents always fight on Sundays.

He looks down at where she's fallen, her legs still tangled with her pink bike, a set of angry grass stains seeping through her clothes. His brow is furrowed in concern, green helmet a size too big, tilted slightly askew. He has a tiny hand outstretched. Are you hurt?

She shakes her head, blinks back tears, and takes his hand

He just moved in down the street, he tells her, hes seven too and he has a sister, she's older, but I'm sure she'd love to play with you

He waits for her to feel better and then they ride away, far away from Sundays

All of the sudden she's thirteen, tall and awkward and she doesn't care.

So what if her parents are divorcing? It's fairly common these days, two of her friends from ballet have divorced parents. It's not a big deal. She'll have two rooms, two birthdays, two everything

It'll be better for everyone, honey

At least she won't have to hear them screaming at each other through her bedroom walls anymore

She doesn't care

But then she's crying, legs dangling by her pool, and he's there again, a steady hand on her shoulder, a warm, friendly smile.

In reality, she's not quite sure when exactly she took a liking to him. If it was when he finally grew out of his awkward phase, when his nose stopped looking too big for his face and he settled into his lean, broad shoulders. Or maybe it was in highschool, when he punched Ahmet in the hallway for calling her easy (no one had ever defended her like that, not even herself)

Or maybe it was that first morning, backlit by the slow, yawning sun

All she knows is that by the time she figures, it's there, that sinking feeling of want, that aching sensation of if only

It has stayed with her since who knows when, growing, changing, waiting–

Waiting for something

In her dream he wakes up having realized it's her, it's always been her–that tearstained little girl on the pink bike, the carefree pre-teen who actually cares a little too much when no one is looking. It's dramatic and he runs, zig zagging through the crowd of people at the airport, buying a one way ticket to the cheapest flight just to get through and then finally, finally asking her not to go. It'd be like the climax of the movie, the happy ending. She wouldn't go, of course, and people would cheer, smiling and clapping at the crazy antics of two young people in love

But her life isn't a movie

And he didn't show up that day

she got on that plane destined for New York, wishing desperately that he had. He had called her later on, sorry that he missed her departure. I meant to wish you a good trip in person, but Asli and I lost track of time, you know how she can be. Don't miss me too much in the big city!

His easy laugh had hurt that day, even through the garbled receiver of a long distance call.

She'd cried, angry at herself for hoping, and that time, his warm, steady hand hadn't been there to comfort her

"Where's Bora?"

Tugçe shrugs, tapping her heel impatiently "He's gone" she snaps "I did what you said, I'm sure he saw us, and now he's gone"