Moonbound Fate Novel – The prologue and first five chapters have been fully revised to provide a smoother and more enjoyable reading experience. I apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused. Thank you for your understanding, and happy reading! (February 4th, 2025) “This is definitely not the way I planned to start 11th grade.” Sumaya thought as her back hit the cold metal of her locker, the impact rattled through her bones, a dull ache settling between her shoulder blades.
Around her, the hallway buzzed with voices—lockers slamming, students murmuring, some lingering just to watch. Not because they enjoyed the spectacle, but because stepping in meant putting themselves on the line. And no one was that brave. Not against Amanda Prescott. The self-proclaimed queen of the school stood in front of her, a cruel smirk tugging at her glossy lips. Her fake blonde waves cascaded over her shoulder like she was in some kind of shampoo commercial, not in this dimly lit corridor where she played executioner.
She twirled a strand of hair around one manicured finger, her gray eyes gleaming with amusement. “What’s wrong, Sumaya? You’ve been avoiding us.” Sumaya pressed her lips together. Avoiding them was an understatement. She had mapped out escape routes, sprinted out of class the moment the bell rang, taken the longest, most inconvenient paths just to stay out of their way. But it was never enough. No matter how carefully she planned, they always caught her. Like wolves hunting prey.
Amanda’s cronies, Jenna and Bree, flanked her sides, their presence closing in like a tightening noose. Jenna, tall and willowy, leaned lazily against the lockers, inspecting her nails with exaggerated boredom. Her auburn hair, sleek and straight, framed a sharp face, her brown eyes gleaming with a predatory amusement that sent a chill down Sumaya’s spine. Bree, on the other hand, stood with her arms crossed, exuding a different kind of menace. Shorter but athletic, she had a build that hinted at a willingness to get physical.
Her dark brown curls framed her mocha-toned skin, and her sharp hazel eyes flickered with irritation. And then there was Sumaya. Even standing cornered against her locker, she stood out in a way she wished she didn’t. Her black hair, long and silky, cascaded over her shoulders, slightly tousled from the day. Her emerald-green eyes, so vivid they almost glowed under the dim hallway lighting, stared ahead with guarded defiance. She was dressed in a simple navy blue hoodie and fitted jeans, the kind of outfit meant to let her blend in—but that was impossible.
Amanda took a step closer, the scent of her designer perfume thick and suffocating. “That’s not very nice, you know,” Amanda drawled. “We missed you over the holidays, and you went and hurt our feelings by running off like that.” “I didn’t know you had any,” Sumaya wanted to say, but she bit her tongue. Amanda Prescott wasn’t just a mean girl—she was the mayor’s daughter.