by Hotcheri
The Pull of Destiny
Cheri ‘hotcheri’ Pye
Copyright © 2013 Cheri ‘hotcheri’ Pye
All rights reserved
ISBN: 1481957317
ISBN-13: 978-1481957311
DEDICATION
This novel is dedicated to my faithful fictionpress readers and reviewers. Without you guys,
I never would have had the courage to self-publish this novel. Thanks, my wonderful fp familia.
Love you guys.
CHAPTER 1
knock you down.
Watching Dalton School’s newest and most lovey-dovey couple exchange spit while I sat opposite them in the booth at Denny’s and wished I was somewhere else wasn’t the way I wanted to spend my Monday afternoon. I don’t have anything against PDA, but being the third wheel sucks. Unfortunately, every time my BFF Robyn Miller gets a new boyfriend (which happens more often than you would believe), a third wheel is exactly what I become. Just the annoying tagger-on who wants to go home but can’t because her best friend doesn’t want her first date with her ‘Mr. Right’ to be awkward. Yeah right. Robyn throws all her morals out of the front door when she hooks up with a new guy. Most of the time, she’s so busy with ‘Mr. Right’ that she doesn’t even remember that I’m there, glancing at my watch every five seconds and wolfing down cold fries, cold pizza or cold burgers (depending on where we’re eating that day). And feel free to disagree with me, but if I want to see two hot teens make out in New York City, I’ll go home and watch Gossip Girl.
So that’s why when my House Advisor, Mrs. Williams, asked me to deliver homework to a kid who hadn’t bothered to turn up for school today, I jumped at the chance.
She approached me as I was being buffeted out of my last class of the day by students who apparently just couldn’t wait to rush out into the cold, her arms filled with a sheaf of files.
“Celsiana, may I have a word?” she asked, her long skirt swirling around her ankles as she stopped in front of me.
“Sure,” I replied with trepidation, my eyes sweeping the hall for an escape route. When Mrs. Williams wanted a word, it usually meant that a lecture was at hand. Unfortunately, all I saw was Robyn and my other best friend, Shazia El Hamed, lurking behind a pillar. Robyn was frowning at me.
Uh oh. I’m making her late for her tête-à-tête with flavor of the week.
I shrugged slightly in Robyn’s direction, hoping that Mrs. Williams didn’t see. It wasn’t my fault!
“Okay, these are all homework files of students who didn’t show up today,” Mrs. Williams said as she rested her back against the wall, holding up the files.
Wondering what that had to do with me I said, “Oh.” I had showed up today, hadn’t I?
Behind Mrs. Williams, Robyn was tapping her watch, looking increasingly irritated. Hiding a smile, Shazia hugged her and took off. The daughter of a Saudi Arabian oil merchant, Shazia’s chauffeured limo came to pick her up at precisely 2.55 pm. The plus side was she didn’t have to walk in the rain, but she had never been on the subway in her entire life! Every New York City resident should go on the subway at least once, no matter how rich they were. Just my opinion. Since Mrs. Williams was busy leafing through her files, I found a chance to tap my watch and hold up 5 fingers.
“Five seconds,” I mouthed, knowing full well it wouldn’t be five seconds. Mrs. Williams took forever to get to the point, and Robyn knew it. Still, anything that put off the inevitable (in this case, trying not to watch Robyn and her boyfriend have a fun time while trying not to feel like the loser I was) was a bonus, in my book.
Five seconds turned into a minute and Mrs. Williams still hadn’t said anything to indicate why she was making me stand here, attracting weird looks from my classmates as they filled the hall. In fact, she hadn’t said anything at all, still engrossed in her files. I shifted from one foot to another, scratching the back of my neck with my free hand.
This is getting stupid.
“Uh, Mrs. Williams, I need to-,” I started hesitantly, not exactly sure what I had to do but knowing that if she didn’t get to the point soon, I would have to leave. Just up and leave without saying anything. She probably wouldn’t even notice my absence.
“Here it is,” she exclaimed loudly, whipping out a blue file with our school logo emblazoned on the front. She looked up at me, a strand of her graying hair falling into her face. “Celsiana, can you do me a favor?”
“Um, sure,” I replied, slightly nervously.
“This is Lucas Astor’s homework file.” She squinted at me. “You do know Lucas Astor, don’t you?”
I nodded, resisting the strong urge to roll my eyes to the ceiling. Of course I knew Luke Astor. There wasn’t a single person who went to this school, from kindergarten to senior year, who didn’t know who Luke Astor was. He was one of the richest, most popular students around.
“Yes, Mrs. Williams, I know Lucas,” I said, marveling at my poker face.
Mrs. Williams sighed theatrically, fanning her face with Luke’s file. I understood her relief (I think) but that was a little overdramatic for my taste. “Thank goodness. That makes it so much easier.” I was just about to ask ‘makes what so much easier’ when she told me. My heart sank down to my boots as she spoke. “I’d like you to deliver Lucas’s homework.” Ugh. Out of all the friends Luke has, why me? I barely even talk to the guy! “Joanna Winthrop was supposed to deliver it to him-apparently they still have a little something something going on.”
She stopped and looked at me expectantly after imparting this little nugget of information. I was still trying to get over her saying ‘a little something something going on’ so I just looked as curious as I could and said “Really?”
“Lucas called to ask for Joanna specifically but she didn’t show at my office,” Mrs. Williams continued. “You don’t mind doing this, do you?”
My mind raced. Spend the afternoon watching Robyn make out or drop off the homework and rush home? Easy choice.
“Sure, I’ll do it,” I said, taking care to put an eager smile on my face.
At least now I had a valid excuse to blow off Robyn without feeling bad.
Mrs. Williams smiled so widely I almost heard her cheekbone’s creak. “Excellent! You’re a life saver, Celsiana!”
Funny. The way my cousin told it, I was a waste of space. Oh, well, each to his or her own, I guess. I smiled back at her, banishing those dark thoughts to the back of my mind. Plenty of time to deal with that when I got home. School and work were my sanctuaries; at least when I was there, I could pretend like everything was alright. I didn’t want that to change, because when I got home, it was another story.
“You were my first choice because you’re responsible and also, you sit near Lucas in Science, don’t you?” Mrs. Williams went on.
I nodded yet again, starting to feel like a bobble head doll.
Not like sitting near to Luke meant anything. Heirs of old money like Luke Astor didn’t talk to commoners on financial aid like me. Not to sound bitter or anything, but I bet if the shoe was on the other foot, Luke probably wouldn’t even know who I was, let alone agree to drop off my homework at home. And him being a typical Upper East Side resident, he’d probably get lost or worse in my East Harlem neighborhood. But my grandmother used to say, ‘God rewards you for all your good deeds’ and she was rarely wrong about anything. I wondered what my reward for doing this good deed would be, feeling slightly guilty for doing it but unable to stop myself. Maybe a cup of tea in the Astor house. That would be a sweet reward, it was cold outside. This reminded me-.
“Where does Luke live?”
Just asking that question made me feel supremely stupid and I stared down at my white boots, not daring to look up at Mrs. Williams. She had
to be laughing at me. As a female member of the student body, it was my duty to know where Luke lived. All the girls at Dalton adored Luke because he was pretty adorable, I guess, even though he was a bit of a jerk. He was cute, rich and your typical party animal and skirt chaser. He mostly dated smoking hot blondes and spent his lunch breaks hanging out under the bleachers with his crew or playing the bass guitar in the music studio. Unfortunately, he played quite well, which was only more ammo for his flock of fawning fan girls. They thought the fact that the guy played a bit of bass guitar put him on the level of Jimi Hendrix. Sample of an overheard conversation about him: “OMG, he’s like, super hawt! And he like totally used to be in a band, y’know!”
Yeah, our school isn’t exempt from its share of valley girls. Pretty weird, since we’re in NYC, but whatever.
“He lives on Park Avenue.”
Of course. Where else could a moneyed descendant of an importantly famous family live in Manhattan? Duh, Celsi.
Fishing in her skirt pocket, Mrs. Williams pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to me. Scribbled on it was an address. “Here’s the address,” she said. “It’s on your way home, so that should be convenient.”
“Yeah, well, kind off,” I said, stuffing the paper into my parka pocket. I was feeling impatient now. This conversation shouldn’t be taking this long! It should have been over ages ago.
“How are you doing at home?”
Mrs. Williams had a concerned look on her face and I tried my best not to sigh. Not this question again.
A couple of months ago, I had come into school with a bruise on my chin. Even after I told her that I ran into a door, she wouldn’t believe me and contacted my aunt to hold a meeting with her. My aunt spilled her guts, telling her about how rough my cousin Nathan could be, especially when he had been drinking (which was constantly). Mrs. Williams automatically assumed that Nathan had hit me (not true. He threw a book at me, but that’s okay. I’m used to it) and decided to make herself my confidant.
“Good,” I replied, hoping that she wasn’t going to press me. “My cousin got a job, so that’s been better.”
She smiled again and I immediately felt my heart tighten with guilt. There I was, feeling defensive when she was asking me, but she was doing it for my own benefit. Still, there were some things I felt like I had to keep to myself, like how Nathan went on a drunken rampage through the apartment every once in a while, breaking things and cursing everyone out. When that happened, I took refuge in my room, my iPod turned up high so that I didn’t have to hear my aunt cry. Mrs. Williams didn’t need to know that. ‘Brush your shoulders off’ was the motto that I lived by. I was strong. I had to be, to get through every night.
“That’s good.” To my gratitude, she didn’t continue on the subject, instead handing me (finally!) Luke’s file. “Okay, here’s the file and tell Lucas he’d better come in tomorrow unless he’s dying. And if he’s dying, I want a note from his doctor.”
I took the file, holding it under my arm. “Did he say what was wrong?” I asked curiously.
“No,” Mrs. Williams said, her voice slightly bitter. “He’s an Astor. He doesn’t need an excuse not to show up at school.”
I shrugged. Made sense. His dad was on the school board, after all. Luke was always causing disruptions in the school, but he got so much leeway it was like he owned the place.
Mrs. Williams’s thin lips pursed. “I’m sure he just has a hangover. And that homework ought to sober him right up.”
Well said.
***
Robyn wasn’t impressed that I was ditching her to go deliver Luke’s homework.
“No, you have to come with me,” she pleaded, clutching on to my arm as we walked to the station, trying not to slip on the frosty sidewalk. “I’m gonna be so nervous alone with him!”
I had to laugh at her. “Rob, you guys have been alone before! I wasn’t there when he asked you out!” I reminded her. She turned to me, her cheeks reddened by the cold, pouting at me.
“And you should have seen how awkward that was,” she said, sighing. “I need you, Celsi! You give off a positive vibe!”
She bumped her hip against mine, making me giggle. “Why, thank you! And here I was thinking my vibe was kinda creepy, in a stalkerish way.”
I thought that was pretty funny (which just goes to show that my sense of humor is garbage) but Robyn didn’t crack a smile, clutching my arm so tight I had pins and needles.
“Ha-ha. Seriously though, when you’re around, my dates go smoother,” she said, twirling a lock of her blonde hair around her gloved finger. “And my relationships last longer.”
I shook my head before she’d even finished her sentence. “Rob, none of your relationships last! The longest you’ve had a boyfriend for is a month,” I told her, trying to jog her memory. “You’re a serial dater.”
Robyn gave me a superior look. “Actually, it was a month and two days,” she said. I shrugged. Same difference.
“I don’t think me not being there will ruin your chances with this one,” I said, patting her arm reassuringly. Even though their first date was off to a pretty bad start. I mean, the guy had asked to meet with Robyn at the subway, for goodness sakes! All of her other boyfriends, as short-lived as they might be, at least had enough class to pick her up by car. I wasn’t being a snob, but Robyn, even though she was one of the most down to earth rich girls I had ever met, was still a Fifth Avenue princess. She had been on the subway a couple of times (I made sure of that) but never to meet a guy she was going on a date with. “Just be yourself. Make eye contact. Smile. Tell him his cologne smells good. You’ll have him whipped in no time.”
We made our slow, torturous way down the subway station stairs, getting pushed this way and that. Robyn kept a tight hold on me (if that’s even possible), her eyes darting from one place to another. She hated the subway, always thought people were about to steal her Louis Vuitton purse.
“Why you, though?” she asked suddenly, keeping a watchful eye on the panhandler who flirted with me every morning on my way to school.
“Why me what?” I asked absently, my ears cocked for the announcement of the next train.
“Why do you have to be the one to give Luke his homework? Doesn’t he have friends?”
Robyn sulked better and longer than anyone I knew. I looked in her dark brown eyes and knew she wasn’t impressed. For some reason, she really thought I was her dating good luck charm.
“They’re maybe too busy to do something as ‘trivial’ as take him his homework,” I said musingly. “You know, they’re probably partying on a Monday afternoon or something.”
Robyn raised her arms in the air, scowling. “Well, he could send his chauffeur to pick it up! You’re not his maid!” Noting the looks people were giving her, she shifted closer to me, lowering her voice. “Or did he hire you and you didn’t tell me?”
I smiled. It was nice that Robyn was so indignant on my behalf (even though her motives for being indignant were glaringly obvious) but it wasn’t enough to change my mind. Tagging along on her dates made me feel pathetic. If I had a boyfriend, we could double date but guys who wanted to date Celsi Sawyer were few and far between. Nobody at Dalton wanted to date a girl from the Barrio and it was probably a good thing. I knew I could never be flirty, pretty Robyn with a multitude of guys dying to date me, or Shazia, whose shy innocence attracted lots of interest, and I was fine with that. My vice were the sappy romance novels I had stashed under my bed and as soon as I got home, I planned to curl under my blanket and lose myself in someone else’s (infinitely) more interesting world.
But in order to do that, I had to get away from Robyn, which was harder than you’d think, simply because she refused to be left alone down here. So I was stuck with her, waiting for interchangeable ‘Mr.’ Right’ of the month, a guy called Todd who was on the varsity football team. Todd was tall, blonde, handsome, a good kisser (according to Robyn) and would probably put a girl like me to sleep. Unfortunately, To
dd was running late.
“I think it’s just a nice thing to do,” I replied, shrugging. My book bag was so heavy that I felt the strap digging painfully into my shoulder and I shifted it onto my other shoulder, looking around the congested station for a sign of Todd. None.
“You know what your problem is?” Robyn faced me, her hands on her slim True Religion jeaned hips. “You’re too nice, Celsi. You don’t get something for nothing. Tell him that, and then tell his rich ass to pull out his wallet and pay up.” She glanced around the station and leaned in closer to me, a strand of her hair brushing my cheek. “I mean, you have to take the subway for him and it’s dirty in here.”
“Sweetie, it’s okay. I have to take the subway anyway, remember? I don’t have a driver or a limo,” I reminded her placidly. An embarrassed expression flitted across her face, her cheeks flushing.
“God, I’m sorry, I- forgot. It’s not that dirty down here, you know. And riding in a limo is overrated,” she said hastily.
I couldn’t stop a grin from darting on my face. “It’s cool, girl.” Looking over Robyn’s shoulder, I caught sight of Todd’s lanky frame coming down the stairs. At last! “I gotta go. And Todd’s coming.”
I hugged Robyn, who immediately began to go into pre-date jitters. “OMG, is my hair alright?” she asked in a frantic whisper, patting her perfectly coifed blonde curls. “Does my makeup look good?”
I rolled my eyes. Typical Robyn behavior. “You look great,” I reassured her. “Just remember what I told you and you’ll be fine.”
Breathing heavily, Todd came up behind us. “Hi Robyn,” he said shyly, gazing at Robyn as if she was truly ‘the one’. Wait for it, bud. You’ll be kicked to the curb just like the rest of ‘em. Looking at him, I gave him two weeks. His rep as a good kisser would save him. He spared me a glance. “Hi, Chelsea.”
