Someone Like You Read online

  also by

  Michelle Dykman

  Her Sanctuary, His Heart

  The Deal with Dakota

  If Only In My Dreams

  You, Me, and the Stars

  BETHEL PRIVATE SCHOOL SERIES | BOOK ONE

  You Found Me

  BETHEL PRIVATE SCHOOL SERIES | BOOK THREE

  Someone Like You

  ©2022 by Michelle Dykman

  All rights reserved

  Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-64960-391-3

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64960-117-9

  eISBN: 978-1-64960-167-4

  Cover design by Hannah Linder Designs

  Interior Typesetting by Dentelle Design

  Digital Edition by Anna Riebe Raats

  Edited by Katie Solomon

  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. For permission requests, contact the publisher using the information below.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are all products of the author's imagination or are used for fictional purposes. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Any mentioned brand names, places, and trademarks remain the property of their respective owners, bear no association with the author or the publisher, and are used for fictional purposes only.

  Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

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  The colophon is a trademark of Ambassador, a Christian publishing company.

  Dedication

  To all those teen moms who have chosen to give their babies life,

  I salute you.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Also by Michelle Dykman

  Copyright Information

  Dedication

  Preface

  Epigraph

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Next in the Bethel Private School Series . . .

  About the Author

  Contact Information

  Also by Ambassador International . . .

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  Back Cover

  Preface

  The events in this book run before, parallel, and after the events that take place in You, Me, and the Stars. Someone Like You can be read as a standalone; however, I recommend reading the series in order.

  For you created my inmost being;

  you knit me together in my mother's womb.

  I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

  your works are wonderful,

  I know that full well.

  Psalm 139:13-14

  Chapter One

  Candice Hillman slapped her hand over her mouth, her stomach churning as she flung herself out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom. The bright flash of the bathroom light blinded her as she rushed to get to the toilet. She barely made it before the contents of her stomach emptied into the bowl.

  Her sides ached as she heaved over and over, gasping for breath between each interval and falling to her knees. Eventually, the churning stopped, and exhausted, Candice slid backward and landed with a thump on the cool gray and white tiles. She shivered against the chill on her sweat-soaked body and pulled at her thin sleep shirt.

  The floor was cold. Through the bathroom window blinds, she could see the sun peeking out from behind the orange and pink horizon. She took a few deep breaths and rested her head against the cool surface of the white toilet seat. She held her damp hair back with one hand until her heart rate returned to normal. Finally, Candice pushed herself up, standing on shaky feet as she leaned her body against the bathroom cabinet, a white rounded sink set atop a gray, wooden stand, and felt around for a toothbrush.

  Brushing quickly and spitting, she called out to her voice-activated alarm clock, “What time is it?”

  “The time is now six a.m.” A tinny voice replied from the darkness.

  Too late to get back into bed if she was going to get the last bit of her history assignment done before today's class. Sighing, she pushed her tired body upright and closed the bathroom door. She turned the shower on, setting it to scalding and wanting desperately to wash away the grimy layer of sweat coating her body. When the water ran cold, she forced herself to dry off and dress for the day.

  After rummaging through her extensive wardrobe, Candice decided on dark-wash skinny jeans and a green peasant blouse. She pulled on the clothes and took a few deep breaths as she dressed to calm her roiling stomach. Piling her auburn hair into a messy bun on top of her head, she brushed on a quick layer of makeup. Her stomach still felt too queasy to put much more effort into her appearance. Those enchiladas she'd eaten for supper last night were not agreeing with her. Was it the chicken? It did taste funny to her. She'd have to ask Mrs. Potter about it.

  She quickly filled her backpack as she bustled around her messy room in search of her textbooks and laptop. After sliding a pile of books into her bag, she turned on her laptop and started on her history homework, losing herself in the marvel of medieval Europe. Once she was done with her assignment, she checked her phone and grimaced. Seven-thirty. She needed to hurry if she was going to eat breakfast before leaving for school. Sliding her feet into her shoes, she zipped her bag closed and hurried down the wooden stairs to the kitchen.

  Like every morning, Mrs. Potter was already bustling around with breakfast preparations. Two plates—her mother wasn't back. Again.

  “Morning, honey,” Mrs. Potter said cheerily.

  “Morning. What's for breakfast?” Candice walked around the marble island at the center of the kitchen and sank down into a black bar chair, dropping her bag to the floor beside her.

  “You look very pale. Are you feeling all right?” Mrs. Potter asked.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Candice said, grabbing a cup of coffee from the counter. “I got sick this morning. Do you think it was the chicken? I thought it tasted a bit off.”

  She took a sip of the drink and grimaced. The coffee tasted a bit weird, too.

  Mrs. Potter raised a concerned eyebrow. “The chicken? I hope not, but I'll throw out the leftovers just in case. Would you like some peppermint tea? It works well for an upset stomach.”
br />   “Yeah, anything would taste better than this coffee.” Candice swallowed hard against a fresh wave of nausea.

  Mrs. Potter placed the tea beside her. After a few sips, the warm tea worked its magic, and Candice felt her stomach settle.

  “Do you want some breakfast?” Mrs. Potter asked as she rushed around the kitchen.

  “Maybe just some toast, please,” Candice said. She wasn't sure how much her stomach could handle. “Do you have any idea when my mother will be home?”

  “She said sometime this evening.”

  “Yeah, right,” Candice scoffed. If she had a dollar for every time she'd heard that, she would be a millionaire.

  “Candice.” Mrs. Potter reached over to take Candice's hand. “You know your mother loves you. She's just busy.”

  “She's always busy. Always too busy for me.”

  Wasn't that the story of her life? Work always came first for her mother, and everything else always came second, even Candice. No wonder her father had left. The divorce had been amicable—there was no fighting, no ugly court battles. One day, they were a family, and the next day, they weren't. Why her mother wanted custody of her was beyond Candice. She'd rather live with her dad; at least he took an interest in her life. Most days, she wished he lived closer so she could see him more often.

  Ever since her parents had divorced four years ago, Candice had been almost completely alone. Her mother had left—perhaps not physically, but definitely emotionally. She still lived in the same house as Candice, but she was rarely ever home. Mrs. Potter, their housekeeper and her unofficial guardian, had become Candice's only company.

  Mrs. Potter sighed sympathetically and placed two pieces of buttered toast on the table in front of Candice. “Eat up, honey. It's almost time for school.”

  Taking small, measured bites in an effort to stop the nausea from returning, Candice ate and drove herself to school.

  “Hey, girl, you're early today,” her friend Felicia Wren said as she pulled Candice out of her parked car.

  “Yeah, rough morning,” Candice said. “The house was extra quiet today.”

  Felicia nodded; she didn't need more explanation than that. Sometimes, Candice wished her parents were more like Felicia's—still together and madly in love. But then again, life didn't always work the way she wanted it to.

  “Tell me about it. Alex totally thinks he's in charge while my parents are gone!” Felicia prattled on. Candice knew she loved her brother, but sometimes, their relationship was intense.

  She tried to listen to Felicia, but Candice's attention was stolen by a sight that made her heart clench: Brad and Willow. Brad and Willow were laughing outside the main entrance of the school, Willow tossing her long, chestnut hair, and smiling at something Brad said with flirtatious enthusiasm.

  “Candice, are you listening?” Felicia asked, snapping her fingers in front of Candice's face.

  Candice jumped and turned back to Felicia. “What? I mean, yeah,” she lied.

  “Oh, yeah? What did I just say?” Felicia crossed her arms over her chest, a slight frown marring her brow. The wind ruffled her wild, brown hair, and fire shot from her blue eyes. Then, she saw what Candice had been focused on, and her smile turned down at the corners. “He loves you,” she said, tapping Candice on the shoulder. It was a sympathetic gesture. They both knew what Willow was capable of.

  Before, Candice might have believed it, but Brad had been so strange the last few times they'd been together. She wasn't so sure anymore. But as if to erase her fears, Brad's eyes met hers, and his face lit up. He excused himself from Willow and hurried over to her, smiling broadly.

  “Hey, babe,” he said, pressing his soft lips against hers.

  Candice's doubt disappeared, and she wrapped her arm around his waist, breathing in his fresh, clean scent.

  “Hey, you.” She returned his kiss with enthusiasm, ignoring the disgruntled expression marring Willow's beautiful face as she pulled away.

  Go find your own, Willow.

  Wild Willow could have any guy she wanted. She had better keep her hands off Candice's.

  “I'll see you later,” Felicia said with a suggestive wink, and Candice felt her face heat.

  Brad chuckled and bent his head to hers again, snagging another quick kiss. Brad broke the kiss and led them into the busy school building. The hallway bustled with various members of the student body at Bethel Private School. The pale white walls lined with dull, gray lockers rang with the sound of laughter, arguing, and slamming doors. The air smelled the same as it did every day—like old sweat and cleaning detergent.

  “Did you have a good night?” Brad asked, looping his arm around her waist and shielding her from oncoming students.

  “It would have been better if you'd spent it with me,” Candice said. Then, she snuck in the words she really wanted to say. “So, did Willow need something from you?”

  “Sorry, babe, I wanted to come over, but practice comes first. Plus, my dad wanted me to—Wait, Willow?” Brad cast confused eyes over to Candice.

  “Earlier, when you were at the door with her, did she want something?” Candice clarified, trying to sound casual.

  “What? No. She was asking about Connor and the practice schedule.”

  “Oh, okay.” Candice shrugged, not fully appeased. “Anyway, what were you saying your dad wanted?”

  Brad's expression turned sour. “Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Never satisfied with anything I do or don't do.”

  Brad pulled her closer into his side. She was his comfort. There'd been many times where she'd held him after an argument with his dad, Adrian Thorn.

  “Just for once, I wish you would stand up to your dad,” she said.

  Preaching to the choir, Candice.

  Brad sighed, his smile slipping. It was an old argument between Brad and his dad—Brad trying to be independent, his dad insisting on perfection. He shook his head. “It doesn't ever help,” he shrugged “I don't waste my time anymore.”

  “Never mind. You're here now, and that's all that matters.” She laid a swift kiss on him and hoped the teachers patrolling the hallways wouldn't catch them. Nobody needed a trip to Principal Rory on a Monday morning.

  Brad paused, his expression intense. Something shadowed his deep blue eyes. But as quickly as it came, the expression disappeared. He smiled again and kissed her cheek.

  “Yeah. We'd better hurry. I don't think Aria would be too pleased if we're late for class again.”

  Candice followed Brad, cheeks flushed and quietly giggling about the time Mrs. Aria had caught them kissing behind the gym door. Maybe she didn't need to worry about Willow after all.

  Chapter Two

  At the door they separated, Candice to her human development class and Brad to his science class. It was strange to remember how they had barely known each other at the beginning of the year. But strangers had quickly become friends, and over time, that friendship had grown into what Candice considered love.

  Mrs. Aria, the human development teacher, called the class to attention with a loud whistle.

  “To continue on from our last class, when does a fertilized egg become a baby?” Mrs. Aria asked the class.

  “When there's a heartbeat?” Cindy guessed in her timid voice.

  “At conception.” That was Paulette. She was one of the smart ones always ahead of the rest of the class.

  “At twelve weeks?” Amy said from the back.

  The class fell silent, and Mrs. Aria looked around expectantly.

  “Anyone else?” she asked.

  Still more silence.

  “Okay, when will a woman consider herself pregnant?” she asked.

  “When she takes a test?” another girl asked.

  “When she's missed a period,” Paulette said.

  There were some spatters of giggles, and “Gross!” echoed from a couple of the boys.

  Candice shook her head, faintly bemused by their behavior. The boys had a lot of growing up to do.

&
nbsp; Some of them, anyway, she thought.

  “Okay. As this is a Christian school, we will look at what the Bible has to say about when a life is a life.” Mrs. Aria pointed to a dark blue book that lay on her desk.

  A cacophony of voices filled the class, each student shouting out their opinion.

  “All right, settle down. Turn to Psalm 100, verse three in your Bibles.” She paused for a moment, allowing the students to turn to the relevant verses.

  “'Know that the LORD is God. It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.'” She held her place with one hand. “What does this tell us about our lives?”

  Paulette shifted in her seat. Candice rolled her eyes. The girl seemed to know everything.

  “Yes, Paulette?” Mrs. Aria asked

  “The verse shows that God made us,” Paulette said.

  Paulette said the words so confidently that Candice couldn't help but sigh. Paulette was a loud-and-proud Christian, and while Candice didn't necessarily have a problem with it, she still wasn't so sure about the whole “Christian” thing. The only reason she was at a Christian school like Bethel was because her mom had forced her to come when they'd moved here last year.

  “Thank you, Paulette,” Mrs. Aria said. “Now, let's turn to Isaiah 44, verse twenty-four: 'This is what the Lord says—your Redeemer, who formed you in the womb: I am the Lord, the Maker of all things, who stretches out the heavens, who spreads out the earth by myself.' So, this verse tells us again that God made us, but what else does it tell us?” Mrs. Aria asked.

  Hands flew up. Paulette again. “That He formed us in the womb?”

  “Yes, and what does this tell us about when a fertilized egg becomes a baby?”

  Silence rang like a bell through the room.

  Mrs. Aria touched the book on her desk. “It tells us that life begins the moment of conception. A baby is formed in that moment, not a random clump of cells or potential life. A living, breathing, growing human being.”

  For the rest of the lesson, Mrs. Aria read verses from the Bible and explained what she thought they meant, but Candice was more preoccupied with Willow and Brad's interaction that morning. Was it really as simple as Brad said it was? She never could be sure after all the stories she'd heard around school about Willow's previous exploits. Willow had a track record that would make any girl wonder whether she was after her boyfriend. She was known for boyfriend-stealing, among other things.