Destiny Gift

by Juliana Haygert

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

  “No, stay here.” Olivia held her hand out to stop me. “I’m gonna go buy coffee for us. At least stay until I get back so Raisa won’t be alone.”

  Raisa turned her hazel eyes to me, batting her lashes, and I laughed.

  “All right,” I agreed, watching as Olivia rushed to the nearest coffee shop. I was crazy about coffee. “What’s he doing now?”

  “Carrying and opening boxes.” Raisa smiled. “He just looked at you again.”

  “Oh God,” I turned, relaxing against the back of the bench and looking for Victor.

  There he was, with a utility knife in his hand, opening a large box. His head was lowered and his messy hair fell over his face. I was used to the Victor with non-messy hair, but I had to admit, the hair-over-the-eyes look was totally hot. In fact, he looked handsome in jeans, a burgundy polo, and a brown suede jacket.

  And yet, he was oblivious to the many girls staring at him, crazy to have his attention—me included.

  Raisa broke through my thoughts. “You’re doing that thing again.”

  “What?”

  “The thing with your hair.” She pointed her chin to me and, looking down, I found my index finger coiling a strand of my hair.

  “Oh,” I muttered, untangling my finger and crossing my arms. Raisa laughed.

  When I glanced at him, he was staring at me. My heart fluttered, but he averted his eyes. I felt like dying.

  “I said I shouldn’t have come.” I stood, feeling hurt tears surging up.

  “Don’t be silly. Sit down and enjoy the view.”

  “I don’t think I should.” I was ready to argue, but Olivia was coming with three steaming foam cups.

  “So, what happened in my absence?” she asked, handing us our coffees. I tasted mine, pleased it was mochaccino, my favorite.

  “He looked away from her when she looked at him,” Raisa related.

  “Really?” Olivia put a hand on her hip. “What a fool.”

  “Well, girls, I’ll see you at home.” I raised my cup toward Olivia. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  “No, you’re not going yet.” She pushed me back down on the bench. “I have an idea. I’ll be right back.” She turned and left again.

  For the five minutes she was gone, I avoided looking at Victor, even when Raisa reported he was still staring at me.

  My mouth fell open when Olivia came back holding two Spanish guitars.

  “Are you insane?” I asked. A few curious people were already eyeing Olivia and the guitars in her hands, probably wondering what she was up to. “How did you get these?”

  She handed me one of the guitars. “The music building.”

  “You went there for these?”

  “Yay! We’re going to have a show in the park,” Raisa yelled, causing several people to turn their gazes toward us.

  I shook my head. “Oh no, we aren’t.”

  “Come on, Nad, live a little.” Olivia ran her fingers over her guitar’s chords. “You love music. Surrender to it.”

  I chuckled and shook my head. “I can’t believe we’re going to do this.”

  “We are.” Olivia sat on the high back of the bench.

  Well, why not? Victor knew I was here but ignored me. I didn’t have anything left to lose. I sat beside Olivia, and Raisa sat at the edge of the bench so she could turn and look at us.

  “What are we singing?” I asked, a bit nervous knowing Victor would be hearing and watching me.

  “Let’s start with something slow, to warm up and call in our public,” Olivia suggested. “How about the one we sang the other day?” When I nodded, Olivia added, “You pull it since your vocals are much better than mine.”

  Again, I just nodded, butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

  We started, and I let go of my voice, knowing most everyone in the park could hear it—and enjoy it. I might be shy most of the time, but I knew how good my voice was. By the end of the first song, several students and professors surrounded us, asking for more.

  Smiling, proud of myself, I glanced through the crowd and found Victor’s eyes. He was still under the stand he was helping set up, working now to put together some tables. I wasn’t sure, but I thought the corner of his lips twisted in a faint smile. He nodded at me and I nodded back.

  Game on.

  Olivia and I went through a long list of the more popular songs and displayed a variety of genres: country, ballad, light rock, R&B, and pop.

  All the while, my gaze flickered to Victor, and many times I found him watching me. By the end of the performance, our audience had increased and took up much of the park’s center. Quite a few asked if I was in the music program like Olivia. I wished I could say I was.

  After more requested songs, I noticed Victor wasn’t anywhere to be seen. It was getting late, and I still had to study for my biology exam, so I threw in the towel. Raisa said she would wake up an hour early and study for the exam, then tried to convince me to do the same. Yeah, right.

  “Stay, Nad,” Raisa insisted. “We’re going to grab a bite somewhere later. Come with us.”

  “I need to study.”

  “It’s okay, Raisa,” Olivia said. “If Nad thinks she needs to study, then let her go.”

  Raisa raised her brows. “Why? She’ll get an A or a B+ even if she doesn’t study.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m off. Bye.”

  They waved goodbye, and I walked back home, feeling a little chipper. Singing always raised my spirit, and the fact that Victor had seen me while at it was a bonus. In my visions, he loved my voice and always asked me to sing for him.

  I was one block away from my building, at the exact same place Micah had saved me from the bats, when his voice called me.

  “Nadine!”

  With wide eyes, I spun around and found Victor running in my direction. Then, on instinct, I scanned our surroundings, making sure the bats weren’t hiding. I waited, and he came to a halt in front of me.

  “H-hi,” I stuttered.

  “Hey.” He ran his hand through his messy hair. I guessed that without the mousse or whatever kept dream-Victor’s hair intact he did that a lot. He kept glancing around. I wanted to ask what he needed, but I held my tongue. Finally, he fixed his eyes on mine and spoke up. “You have a beautiful voice.”

  My cheeks grew hot. “Thanks.”

  “Seriously, very beautiful.” His eyes narrowed. My heart danced from his compliment. “I thought you were in the pre-health program.”

  “I am. Singing is just a hobby.”

  He nodded. “Not everyone is as talented with their hobby.”

  A cold breeze blew and I hugged myself. I had gone out without a jacket, hoping the tight sweater I had put on would emphasize my thin waist, but now I regretted my decision.

  What did he want? Was he going to be nice for once, or start one of our arguments? “Can I help you with anything? I mean, you didn’t come all this way to compliment my singing.”

  Once more, he ran his hand over his hair. It seemed so soft and shiny I wanted to touch it too.

  “Well,” he said, then paused and looked around. “I wanted to ask for your touch,” he said in a rush of words. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “I’ve been feeling rather nauseous since morning, and the pain has been building for the last hour. Do you mind?”

  My hand was already extended toward him. He hesitated for a second then gripped it tight. The warmth wasn’t as strong as before, but it burned my skin, nonetheless. Like Micah, he tilted his head back, drinking in whatever it was I passed to him.

  With a loud sigh, he let go of my hand.

  “Are you better now?”

  “Yes,” he said, frowning. “The nausea and the pain are gone. Thank you.”

  Then why was he scowling? “You’re welcome.”

  Victor cleared his throat. “I should get going.”

  Ouch. What now? I was a disposable object? “Yes, of course.” I tried to hide the hurt in my
voice, but didn’t think I was successful.

  “Good night,” he said before marching back the way he had come.

  Guess I had been used.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The day after the biology exam, I was in the lab, working on a project that was due in a few days. I didn’t think I’d failed the test, but I was certain I could have done better if Victor hadn’t been taking up ninety-nine percent of my mind. I moved to put away my experiment, but bumped the edge of the desk and dropped the beaker. Acrid smoke irritated my eyes, and the scent of burning rubber clawed at my lungs.

  I gasped and clutched the lab bench. The antiseptic-white walls of the lab loomed, threatening to close in on me. I gagged, then coughed, then berated myself. I couldn’t let things slip out of control. I had to get good grades—no, wonderful grades—if I ever wanted to go to med school and provide a better future for my parents and my siblings.

  But I wasn’t able to concentrate on anything.

  I began tidying the mess I had made when his voice startled me.

  “Can I come in?” Victor asked.

  I turned, conscious I wore gloves and goggles and my hair was pulled up in a messy bun. I yanked off the goggles.

  “As far as I know, the lab isn’t mine.”

  Beautifully clad in jeans and a black sweater, he stepped into the classroom.

  “But you’re the only one in here.” He halted across from the table where I was working.

  Hoping he didn’t notice the accident that had occurred before his arrival, I continued cleaning up the mess while we both remained silent. The silence was killing me. What was he doing here? Why was he looking for me?

  I glared at him. “What do you want?”

  “What do you think?” he asked. That was when I realized his hands were trembling.

  “God,” I muttered, taking off my gloves and offering him my hands. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

  He shrugged, placing his hands over mine. The warmth spread. He gasped and the quivering eased.

  Once it was done, he pulled his hands back and placed them inside his pockets. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  And he walked away. Just like that.

  My legs gave out, and I found a stool to sit down before I fainted from breathing the toxic substance I’d been working with. Or because of my response to him.

  Oh my God! I was just an object to him. A thing that he could use whenever he wasn’t feeling well. I felt like a recyclable soda can that he used up and then threw away.

  A tiny explosion forced me to return my attention to the lab and my project. I cleaned up the mess and, fighting tears, went back to work.

  Then, after a light pang in my chest, warmth and tingles filled my body, the room revolved in darkness, and I wasn’t in the lab anymore.

  I was in a forest, among many tall and thick trees, in almost absolute darkness. The heavy smell of moss and wet leaves engulfed me.

  I jumped back when a spot of light came from my right. I saw a cloaked figure approaching, her arm extended, her palm facing up, a bright pink flame hovering over it.

  She stopped right beside me, but didn’t seem to see me. I was in one of the ghost visions. I leaned to look at her face from under the cloak, but that wasn’t necessary. Ceris. She looked sideways, her piercing and unforgettable blue eyes searching around, anxious and fretful. After making sure she was alone, Ceris ran and I darted after her.

  We ran fast—it wasn’t easy to keep up with her—dodging trees and roots and small animals.

  I concentrated on her, wondering why I was seeing her and what she was doing in the middle of a forest. The questions distracted me from the fear building inside my chest. The total darkness and the sounds of wild animals didn’t help.

  After a great distance, she slowed and, suddenly, after passing a few more trees, we entered a clearing. A wooden cottage stood in the center. Light emerged from its few windows and smoke came from its chimney.

  Appearing relieved, Ceris marched to the door.

  Before she could knock, it opened.

  In the tiny living room, there were three identical women. They had no wrinkles or aging marks, long silver hair, knowing gray eyes, and translucent, pale skin. Even though I couldn’t tell their age, I knew they were old. Very, very old. They wore simple white clothing. One was seated on a ragged brown loveseat, knitting a red scarf. A second sat on a pillow over the faded beige rug and read an old book with torn pages. And the third was knelt before the fireplace, stirring a rusted kettle placed over it. None of them appeared to have noticed Ceris’s presence.

  As the goddess and I stepped in, the door closed—by itself—and the silver-haired women kept on with what they were doing.

  Ceris took off her black cloak, letting her white-blond hair flow freely behind her.

  She placed herself among the three women. “I need your help.”

  After what seemed an eternity, the one knitting spoke. “We cannot help you anymore.”

  The one reading added, “We already altered too much of the future to help you.”

  “He needs her. I may not know how she does it, but he would have died without her,” Ceris yelled, her eyes wide.

  “Yes,” the third one said. The way they kept to their activities and did not look at Ceris was disturbing. “He would have died without her. However, you did not think of her, did you?”

  “No, you did not,” the one knitting said. “What do you think will happen to her once this all is done?”

  She shrugged. “I promised her life to you. After the deal is done, she won’t matter anymore.”

  “Oh, won’t she?” The one reading stood up and her gray eyes glowed. “How do you know she won’t matter?”

  “I don’t care about her life. Not after the deal is complete,” Ceris snarled. “She will be all yours then.”

  “Yes, but until then, she is yours,” the one at the fireplace said, also standing. “Until then, her life is the most precious possession you have.”

  The one knitting joined the other two in front of Ceris. “Take good care of her.” She smiled and it was almost evil.

  That was when the three pairs of gray eyes met mine. My stomach revolved and I gasped. They were looking at me, directly at me, during a vision where I was supposed to be a ghost.

  I came back from the vision still seated at the lab’s stool, acid dripping over the table. The acid fizzed and popped, melting the wood and making a huge hole.

  “Shit,” I cursed under my breath and jumped down, frantically trying to clean up my most recent mess.

  But I couldn’t. My hands shook so badly, I only made a bigger disaster. First, a cold visit from Victor, then a vision I couldn’t understand and that scared the hell out of me. It was too much.

  I needed help. Immediately. I needed Cheryl. After all the months of avoiding telling her about the visions, it was time to come clean. She was a psychologist, and even if I did need a psychiatrist, she could at least explain to me what was going on. She could give me reassurance, her friend would help me, and I would be okay.

  My breath ragged, I pulled out my phone and called Cheryl. No answer. I left a quick voice message, hoping she would hear it soon and call me back.

  Sighing, I glanced at the mess over the lab table. I didn’t have any strength left to clean—or try to clean—anymore. I grabbed my stuff and left, pausing only at the monitor’s office to pay him to clean the mess for me.

  I ran home with plans to drug myself to sleep so I wouldn’t have to think about the damned gods and goddesses that kept haunting my visions.

  ***

  After I’d changed my outfit four times, Raisa dragged me out of my closet.

  “You look beautiful. Now let’s go,” she said, opening the door for me. Already in the hall, Olivia stuck her head in to add her urging. Before leaving our apartment, I stopped by the mirror.

  I wore skin-tight jeans, a loose pink crochet sweater with a white, crop
ped sports top underneath, and pink sandals. I had pulled my hair back in a ponytail, leaving a few messy strands adorning my face and had applied makeup—just enough to accentuate my eyes and my high cheekbones. Perfect for the fundraiser carnival organized by the university.

  “He’ll fall in love with you tonight,” Olivia said.

  I rolled my eyes, but felt a smile creeping over my face. Maybe Victor wouldn’t fall in love with me, but I was hoping to be attractive enough to get his attention. Maybe get him to like me a little.

  We were still down the street from the carnival, but I already could see the colorful lanterns—red, yellow, green, blue, pink—that had been raised atop decorated but temporary poles. Their soft glow illuminated the whole park, casting lively shadows on the grayish stone floor. Each concession stand matched the color of the lantern placed directly in front of it. I gasped, amazed with the beauty. The real New York had never looked this good.

  I scanned my surroundings, taking everything in. Students and their relatives and friends strolled around with wide smiles on their faces, talking animatedly, holding large cotton candies or tasty-looking caramel apples. Long lines formed in each of the many game stands—though I believed the lines at the skill games seemed longer than the ones at the games of chance. A round stage had been set up in the center of the park, and a local band was playing cheerful songs.

  I took a deep breath, relishing the smell of sweets and tangy beverages that formed a thick, invisible cloud of scent over the place. On days like this, it was almost easy to pretend the world was safe, joyful, and fair, and the people who lived in it were decent, happy, and well cared for. My heart squeezed a little, secretly wishing it could be true.

  “He doesn’t sing as well as we do,” Olivia said, gesturing toward the skinny lead singer on stage.

  “Let’s go grab a hot dog.” Raisa pulled my hand, jumping up and down. “I’m starving.”

  “I vote we go for a hamburger or a pizza,” Olivia objected. “There are fewer people in those lines.”

  “And I want a cotton candy first,” I said as my stomach growled.

  The girls and I parted ways to get what we wanted, and agreed to meet again near the kissing booth. Raisa wanted to see who were the girls giving kisses out and the guys who would pay for them.