Entangled (Entangled Trilogy #1)

Entangled

ANIKA RAHMAN

Copyright © 2015 Anika
Rahman

All rights reserved. No part of this
publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any
form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other
electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written
permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses
permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the
products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious
manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or
actual events is purely coincidental.

Published by Smash
Words

ISBN:
 
9781311243447

Printed in USA

First Edition

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

DEDICATION

For my best friends Melina Mullan, Gissel
Ramirez and Navdeep Salhan. Thank you three so much for your
support and enthusiasm. I couldn’t have done it without you
guys.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

There has been many people who made this book
possible. I want to thank my friends and family for helping me
along the way. I love you all so much. Thank you Melina Mullan,
Gissel Ramirez and Navdeep Salhan for supporting me. You guys are
the best. I really don’t know what I would do without you guys.
Thank you so much for helping me along the way more than anyone
else. I don’t know what I would do without you three in my life.
Thank you, thank you, and thank you all so much. I was very nervous
since it was my first book, but your encouragements helped me along
the way.

Prologue

The Accident

December 24, 2011:

It gave the impression of a
ruthless snowing season this monotonous December. Well, not so dull
because this year, I won’t spend it sort of alone. The entire city
looked like a colorless, pale land full of lumps of snow all over
the place. Usually, you would expect a white winter to be very
striking and look like a winter wonderland where Snow White would
most likely live. But not this dreary winter. Living through this
mind-numbing season was like wearing only glitzy pink or yellow for
your entire life while being imprisoned in a large, inexpressive
box with only one shade surrounding you for what seemed like
forever. Everywhere you looked was white, snowy and . . .
unadorned. On top of that, the weather had not been so neighborly
either. The wind was so strong, people would be constantly afraid
of being knocked off their feet. Well, that is your typical New
York City winter.

I bestowed a sideways glance at
the curly haired boy sitting next to me in the car, driving. This
was our first ever Christmas together so I was a bit zealous about
it, despite the frigid month. I really, really love summer but for
now, just for now, I love winter. I tried to appreciate every bit
of it.

For Christmas, I got
him
an instant taco
maker since
he
loved tacos for Christmas. And in case
he
didn’t like that, I also
got
him
a
medieval sword set with each of the edges of the swords bordered
with what looked like rhinestones making it easy to wound deep into
any flesh because
he
also loved swords. I had once asked
him
what
he
likes and feels somewhat of a
passionate link to. From what I heard,
he
noticeably doesn’t like anything
that is safe or unhazardous.

“
Anything that
could perhaps prod someone’s eye out or injure them enough without
actually slaying them in certain cases,”
he
had said. I had tried to grasp
all of that information, but it simply was impossible. It’s just
really hard to get a guy some sort of a gift for any
occasion.

I wonder if
he
would even like any of the gifts
I had gotten him. To be honest, I always have trouble getting gifts
for people not matter what the occasion is. When I was ten years
old, I had gotten my twelve year old brother a Barbie doll. Now,
every time I think about it, I just laugh at myself, but hey, I was
little with no common sense whatsoever. When I was fourteen and my
brother was sixteen, I had gotten him a whole set of pretty dresses
which he had eventually ended up returning back to me, telling me
that it was my early birthday gift. I had cried for a whole month,
thinking that he had hated my gift, but he reassured me that the
gifts were not “macho” enough, but it’s the thought that
counts.

“
What’s wrong,
Roza?”
he
asked,
unmistakable uneasiness coloring
his
deep, husky, British-accented
voice.
He
shifted
in
his
seat
slightly, trying to appear casual, but failing at it.
Sometimes,
he
looked as if
he
had forgotten how to do the world’s simplest of things. One
morning,
he
had
gotten up and asked me how to use the bathroom. Fortunately, Elliot
helped
him
out
with that. If you overlooked all of this weirdness,
he
was really a great
guy.

By the look on
his
face, I could tell that
he
had seen me moments
ago toying with my charm bracelet, a gesture that mirrored my
awkward mood. I always toyed with that bracelet every time I was
nervous, upset, or even uneasy around something or someone.
He
was the one who had
gotten me that bracelet the first time we met about ten months ago.
I loved it and made it a permanent part of my mundane life, adding
a little pizazz to my life.

Even though
he
obviously knew my name was
Rosemarie,
he
insisted on calling me Roza while most people called me
Rose.
He
told me
that
he
loved
that name; it’s like an affectionate name for me and just for me.
Since the first time we met,
he
had never ever called me anything else but Roza;
unless
he
was
uptight with me which was just once. I told
him
I was fine when I was really
sick therefore,
he
got mad at me for a whole hour before finally giving
up.

“
Nothing,
really,” I shrugged. I really don’t know why
he
was so concerned about me all the
time. I mean, hello, I’m not fading from your life at the moment or
anything. Even though this sometimes perturbed me, I still found it
really kind and romantic.
He
wouldn’t let anyone look at me or even touch
me.
He
was a bit
possessive of me and for some weird reason, I liked it. I don’t
know why, but I just did.

“
Well . . . okay
then. Let’s talk about our Christmas wishes. You first,”
he
said tensely, looking
straight ahead, clearly not induced by my reply, but still
unwavering to alter the topic of our conversation onto something
else. If we were actually even having a
conversation.

I smiled at
his
attempt at trying to make small
talk. Due to the dim lighting of the glum, freezing night, I
couldn’t really make out
his
features as we rocketed past numerous
streetlights. If I examined
his
face closely, which I did, I can see the auburn
curls carelessly falling onto
his
forehead.
He
smiled, clearly sensing how admiringly I was
watching
him
. My
cheeks unexpectedly felt very warm, despite the subzero temperature
outside, but I answered
him
at last, letting my gaze slip back to the
road.

“
All I want for Christmas is to be
able to spend the whole day with you. What about you?” I countered.
My wish was probably thoughtless and very common, but at the
moment, I didn’t really mind much.

“
Well, all I
want for Christmas is you. Nothing else; just you,” he said,
turning slightly to face me, smiling away. Even then, I couldn’t
really see
his
face which frustrated me even more. I turned to face
him
and the last thing I
remember seeing was
his
dimpled smile as a car zoomed past us and the
pair of bright, unnervingly blue-green eyes staring straight into
mine, trying to read me.

And that is when it all came
crashing down at that precise second when a car, deliberately,
collided into ours and both cars went skidding across the slippery
road, hitting a nearby tree.

Both cars skidded to a halt and I
fell out from my side because I was so stupid that I didn’t even
buckle up. I guess it is true what they say.
Avoid the worst, put safety first
. I
was unable to avoid the worst. My head came in contact with the
rock solid pavement and all I could see for a few moments were
dancing stars, all holding hands, probably playing
Ring-Around-The-Rosie. Shuddering, I tried to move my hand, only to
encounter even more pain as it coursed through my body and sent
more than necessary amount of blood flow to my brain. I could even
smell the coppery fluid and taste the metallic flavor. For some
reason, the accident seemed very premeditated to me.

My whole body ached even more as I
felt a pair of familiar, warm hands take my head onto
his
lap. In the
coldness, in the middle of all the chaos going on, I could’ve sworn
I heard a guy’s voice, probably in his early twenties, laughing and
saying, “Good luck with that!”

My vision began to slowly become
indistinct as my eyes began to close.

I could hear
him
urging me to keep breathing,
hold onto my life and not close my eyes. I knew
he
was right above me, but for some
peculiar reason,
his
voice sounded very distant.

The last thing I remembered were
those beautiful eyes of
his
, fear, love and dismay written
in them. Holding onto that bit of memory, I smiled, knowing
that
he
loved me
and
he
was safe,
and inhaled my last breath.

Chapter 1

high school without the
musical

Present-Day—September 12,
2012:

I bolted upright in my bed,
wheezing and breathing so hard, I thought that my lungs would
burst. My hair felt very moist, plastered to my forehead similar to
a starfish clinging to a rock. My lips felt arid and brackish,
probably from the tears signifying that I had been crying in my
sleep. That was a dreadful dream, to be honest. I really don’t know
what is worse, living through your death again and again every
night, in nightmare form, knowing you can’t do anything about it,
or not having a single clue about the past eight months of your
life, leaving you with only recollections of those hurtfully
beautiful blue-green eyes that would stop you dead in my tracks and
impel you into misplacing my time.