The Pull of Destiny

by Hotcheri

  I turned to Ahmed, suddenly remembering my mission and also remembering that his sister was friends with Celsi.

  “Hey, dude, where does your sister have her lunch? I asked as casually as I could, scratching my nose.

  Ahmed gave me a quizzical stare. “Why? You planning to hit on her? Coz if you get her pregnant, you two are tied for life,” he said in a mock threatening voice.

  “Dude. No way would I hit on your sister. That’s sacred ground, man,” I protested lightly. Even though, given the chance, I’d tap that. Shazia’s pretty hot.

  “Yeah right. You’re still hitting that,” Ahmed said, cocking his thumb in Joanna’s direction. “I don’t trust you with Shazia. No sale.”

  Thank God for Wendy.

  Rolling her eyes, Wendy punched him in the stomach and he doubled over, groaning.

  “He’s all talk,” she said to me, grinning. She grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. “Tell Luke where your sister is, or I’ll break it.”

  Never cross Wendy. Ever. She’s a black belt in every martial art you can think of.

  “She’s in the canteen, dude. Just tell Wendy to-ouch! Tell her to stop twisting my arm!”

  I grinned to myself as I turned my back on a yelling Ahmed and Wendy. It was easy to tell who wore the pants in that relationship.

  ***

  Shazia was in the canteen, sitting with Robyn Miller. I groaned in frustration. Celsi was nowhere to be seen. Why was this so difficult?

  Smiling friendlily, I slid into the seat next to Robyn.

  “Hey, ladies,” I said, trying to muster up enough charm to win them over. Nothing was feeling right anymore. I felt like a bit actor in someone else’s dream. I just didn’t have the energy for anything.

  Robyn was giving me a distrustful look, but Shazia was glaring at me like she wanted to dip me in honey and feed me to fire ants. Obviously they stood by their friend, which meant that Celsi wasn’t just a pity friend and Ahmed was just being a dick, as usual.

  “What do you want?” Shazia asked shortly, stabbing her fork into a French fry. I bet you anything she was imagining that was my eye.

  “I was actually looking for Celsi,” I said cautiously.

  The instant I mentioned Celsi, both of the girls glared at me. I was beginning to feel like Public Enemy Number One.

  “She wants nothing to do with you, so leave her alone,” Shazia said, pursing up her pretty lips.

  I sighed. “Look, I know I screwed up bad yesterday, okay? I just want a chance to apologize to her, that’s all. Then our paths never have to cross again,” I explained.

  Robyn melted first.

  “She’s in the-,” she started, running a hand through her hair. Shazia gave her a warning look and I focused my attentions on her. She was a very hard nut to crack.

  “You expect me to tell you where she is after you called her a slut?” Shazia asked me incredulously.

  “That’s why I want to say sorry to her. I feel really bad about it,” I said, my voice sounding as contrite as I felt.

  “You should feel bad,” Shazia said then closed her mouth like a trap.

  I waited, my eyes flicking from Robyn to Shazia, in anticipation that one of them would say something.

  None of them did.

  Finally, I cleared my throat. “So- can you tell me where she is?” I asked nervously.

  Shazia crossed her arms over her chest, glowering at me from under her brows. “She’s in the music studio,” she said grudgingly.

  “Yeah, she goes there whenever she’s upset,” Robyn piped up, making me feel guiltier.

  I stood, ready to find Celsi and make peace with her. Or try, at any rate. “Thanks, you two,” I said, grinning at them as I backed away from the table.

  Shazia pointed her fork threateningly at me. “Insult her again and you’ll have me to deal with. Okay?”

  Oh, that wouldn’t be good.

  Wondering what the hell Celsi could be doing in the music studio and wondering why I hadn’t bothered looking there before, I walked down the hallway, holding fake conversations with her in my head. I hoped it would go well. I mean, I had searched my room for hours till I found her lucky pencil in a pair of jeans at the bottom of my laundry hamper. It was in my pocket now. If that didn’t show her that I meant what I said, I didn’t know what would. I reached the music studio and started peeking in each cubicle, looking for Celsi. In one, a couple was making out. In another, an earnest kid was playing a violin very scratchily. And finally, in the last one-

  Piano music? Celsi played the piano?

  I poked my head around the door, not wanting to disturb her as she sat hunched over the keys, her face etched in concentration. She played beautifully. I wasn’t much of a piano and classic music lover, but even I knew that she had talent.

  I waited till she was finished playing before I spoke, soundlessly stepping into the room till I was standing right behind her. She didn’t even notice me; she was so intent on her music. Her eyes were closed and she had a serene smile on her face. Music as therapy? Maybe I should get into that. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with my real therapist anymore.

  “Wow. That was amazing. You’re really good,” I said honestly when she finished playing and opened her eyes.

  Her reaction-not expected.

  With a shriek, she jerked so violently that she toppled off the piano chair, landing on the floor on her back. Her scared eyes met mine and she froze.

  “Will you stop creeping up behind me?!” she yelled.

  CHAPTER 4

  if at first you don’t succeed...

  Celsi’s Point of View

  Shazia was wildly incensed as I told her and Robyn about what went down in the Astor penthouse yesterday while we walked to our first class of the morning.

  “Ahmed is such an ass!” she spat, her nostrils flared in anger as she clenched her fists. I raised my eyebrows in amazement and exchanged a look with Robyn. Shazia never swore. She said things like ‘oh, fudgesickles’, or ‘doggone it’. And if she was really pissed off, ‘Great Googly Moogly’ was a favorite of hers. Unanimously appointed peacemaker in our little clique, Shazia never had anything mean or nasty to say about anyone. Just seeing her this mad scared me.

  I would hate to be Ahmed tonight.

  I shrugged, sighing inwardly as I struggled not to go over the penthouse scene again. Stop obsessing, Celsi. I had thought about it way too much during the night. It was time to let it go.

  Except that Shazia wasn’t about to let anything go.

  “And he said you were my pity friend?” she screeched. Several people in the hall looked over at us in surprise, their astonishment growing as they saw it was Shazia making the ruckus. Usually it was Robyn who was the loud mouth, alternately chattering about her dates, a new dress she bought, or crying over some moron who had dumped her and how much she ‘lurved him.’

  Robyn patted Shazia soothingly on the shoulder. “Easy there, tiger,” she said brightly. “Calm down and breathe.” She looked over at me and shrugged nonchalantly. “Relaxation tips from my yoga master.”

  She needed a refund from her yoga master. Relaxed and Robyn weren’t frequently used in the same sentence.

  “Everyone’s entitled to their point of view,” I started, trying to act indifferent, like what Ahmed, Wendy and Luke had said to me didn’t hurt.

  Trying to act like I hadn’t cried myself to sleep, wondering if it was true that people were only friendly to me because they felt sorry for me. But after seeing Shazia’s reaction, I knew I didn’t have to worry about that. She had my back. Robyn did too, but she just wanted this conversation over so that she could talk about her date with Todd.

  “Well, their point of view is wrong,” Shazia fumed, turning on me. Small red spots of anger appeared on her cheeks as she grasped my shoulders, shaking me so hard my teeth rattled. “You are NOT our friend because we feel sorry for you, okay? We are friends because we love each other; we have tons in common-.”

 
; “And we could care less if you’re rich or poor,” Robyn cut in, fumbling around in her Coach bag for a lipstick. She looked up at us, pursing her lips as she applied it. “Those guys are just rich snobs. I can’t believe they would insult you like that when you were doing Luke a favor.”

  “He was kinda nice before they showed up, actually. He talked to me and stuff, even after I hit him in the face...”

  My voice trailed off and I cringed as I remembered that and falling on top of him. Maybe I had deserved to be attacked for that.

  Robyn giggled. “I still can’t believe you did that! Doesn’t he know that the quickest way to a hospital is by standing behind you and saying something?”

  “It doesn’t give him the right to call you a slut,” Shazia said, narrowing her eyes as she tossed her dark hair over her shoulder. “And Ahmed has some nerve, even saying stuff like that about you. Did he forget about how you helped him with his Social’s project?”

  Apparently.

  I had been a huge help to Ahmed, if I do say so myself. His project was on urban housing and he begged me to take him around my neighborhood. Being a nice person (yeah right. The main reason I did it is because he’s hot and he was actually being nice to me) I gave him the grand tour. And my reward was being called a slut.

  Nice, Ahmed.

  “Next time, let Luke get his own damn homework. What a jerk! What gives him the right to act like that? You’re a much better person than they will ever be.”

  Impulsively, I hugged Shazia, her hair tickling my nose as gratitude coursed through my body. Those words may have hurt, but Shazia’s indignation on my behalf was enough to make me feel good about myself.

  “You know what? You guys are the best friends anyone could ever want,” I said happily, linking arms with them both.

  “And don’t you forget it,” Robyn said absently, checking her reflection in her HTC. Some people use phones to make calls, Robyn uses hers to check herself out.

  I laughed for the first time that day, feeling a great weight roll off my shoulders. Nothing to worry about here. My friends liked me just the way I was. My fears had definitely been unfounded. “Well, it’s definitely taught me a lesson,” I admitted. I poked Robyn in the ribs and she squealed.

  “What?”

  “You don’t get something for nothing. I should have told him to pay me for bringing him his homework,” I joked. Robyn nodded wisely, and then grinned, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

  “I tried to tell you! At least you pawned him when you threw his homework in his face. That’s my Celsi!” She nudged me, giggling.

  I smiled, even though I felt kinda bad about that. Not about throwing the file in Luke’s face, which had felt good. But it was obvious that poor Mr. Smith was the one who had cleaned up, since I couldn’t see Luke picking up after himself. And I liked Mr. Smith, so I didn’t feel comfortable about that at all.

  “If Luke tries apologizing to you, don’t accept,” Shazia said out of the blue. We reached our first class of the day and stood outside the door, waiting for the teacher.

  I gave her a quizzical look, smoothing my ponytail. “Any reason why? And what makes you think he’ll apologize?”

  “Oh, he’ll apologize. One time, he hit this girl in the face with a football. Brought flowers to her in class,” Robyn said. She wrinkled her nose in thought. “He can actually be a nice guy-only he’s a jerk.” She shrugged. “I don’t know, guys are sooo complex.”

  I bit my lip. Flowers in class? I had never gotten flowers before, not even on Valentine’s Day! And from Luke Astor too, so they would be even more special- no Celsi, you’re supposed to be mad at him!

  Shazia twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “I know that Ahmed won’t apologize, because he’s a jerk and he probably thought that he was just ‘stating facts’ and it was nothing personal.”

  I nodded. Makes sense. I had once seen Ahmed lay out a guy he’d seen ‘chatting up’ Shazia in their building. Turns out the guy had just been asking her where the elevators were. When he heard that, Ahmed had shrugged, said “My mistake,” and started asking the guy what he thought of the Knicks that season.

  “And Wendy won’t apologize, coz- she’s a bitch,” Robyn said, just loudly enough so that a couple who stood in front of us turned to look at her. I cringed, half hiding myself behind Shazia. Embarrassing.

  “Exactly. But Luke probably will, if he felt bad enough that he followed you out after saying all those things-,” Shazia continued. I blew out a breath as I remembered the remorseful look in his eyes. Had he really wanted to apologize or were Shazia and I reading too much into this? “So, if he apologizes for the first time, play hard to get.”

  “But-,” I started. Guys like Luke usually didn’t apologize! But Shazia looked sure of herself and even Robyn was nodding in agreement. I decided to trust their judgment. What do I have to lose? Nothing. “Okay,” I conceded as the bell rang and our teacher ushered us into class.

  ***

  Lunch rolled around and after meeting with Robyn and Shazia by our lockers as usual, I made my way to the music department, my hands itching in anticipation of a full hour of piano playing. School was basically the only place I could play. We didn’t have enough money to afford one at home, especially now, with the rent for the apartment going up. Ah well. As long as I had a chance to play, even for a little while, I was happy.

  I peeked into each cubicle, hoping for an empty one. Sara and John were in the first one, making out, as usual. That couple (if you could call them a couple) made me so sad. Sara played the trumpet in the school band and was a self-proclaimed band nerd. John was on the varsity Lacrosse team, your typical popular jock. They met every day in the music department because John didn’t want his friends to know that he was dating a ‘geek’. It was so pathetic that the thought of what his peers thought about him would reduce them to meeting in secret like that, but I wasn’t in any position to pass judgment. I had stayed up all night wondering what people thought of me.

  In another cubicle was Terry Hart, a freshman. He played violin, and he played it very badly. I smiled and waved at him as I quickly passed the door, willing myself not to give in to temptation and just clap my hands over my ears to blot out the noise he was making.

  Luckily, the last cubicle was empty. Thanking my lucky stars, I rushed in, sat down and started living. My fingers flew over the keys, seeking out the correct notes without even referring to a book. I was so engrossed in playing that nothing else registered until-

  “Wow. That was amazing. You’re really good.”

  Jolted (literally) out of my reverie, (I was playing Sydney Music Hall) I screamed, high and loud, and tumbled to the ground as my chair tipped over. My heart was thumping as I lay on my back, eyes searching to find the speaker. I froze as my eyes met a pair of dark green ones.

  Luke.

  Still scared out of my wits, I shrieked, “Will you stop creeping up behind me?!”

  Stepping closer to me, he grinned. “I didn’t creep up behind you,” he explained. “I walked. I even waited till you were finished playing before I said anything. It’s not my fault you’re so jumpy.”

  Sounded reasonable, but I wasn’t in the mood to be reasonable. Not when I was being assailed by the fresh, clean scent of soap.

  “I’m not jumpy,” I muttered, trying to hoist myself up. What was he doing here, ruining my good time? Probably wants to use the room to entertain his flock of fan girls with his stupid guitar. Great. Just great. Well, I wasn’t going to keep him waiting.

  He stretched out a hand. “You need my help getting up?”

  A small smile played around his lips, making me fume. He’s laughing at me!

  “I can get up myself,” I replied in a haughty voice, awkwardly pushing myself to my feet and dusting off my pants. Thank goodness I didn’t end up wearing a skirt today.

  Luke withdrew his hand and stood there looking at me as I picked up my bag. So much for the piano playing.

  “Where you going?�
�� he asked as I closed the piano lid and started sidling around him to get to the door and run. I noticed that he was empty handed, guitar-less and his rabid fans were nowhere to be seen or heard. What the-?

  Still, I indifferently tossed my head in his direction, swinging my bag onto my shoulder. “It’s all yours. I was just leaving,” I said coolly.

  “No, wait,” Luke said, moving so that he was standing in front of me and directly blocking my exit. “I’m actually kinda glad I ran into you.”

  He smiled at me, all perfect white teeth and-focus!

  Staring down my nose at him (which was quite hard seeing as he was several inches taller than me) I mustered the snootiest voice I could. “Were you really. Why?”

  He shook his hair out of his eyes again and I bit my lip to stop myself from yelling ‘get a freaking haircut if it annoys you so much!’ I really hoped he wouldn’t, though. Get a haircut, I mean. His hair suited him to perfection. Well, come to think of it, he could carry off any hairstyle. He was definitely cute enough. And he’s a jerk. Remember that, dummy? Right. And he was a jerk.

  “I uh- I wanted to talk to you,” he said slowly, his hands pulling on the sleeve of his Iron Maiden t-shirt. He’s nervous! About talking to me! That’s so cute! Then I gave myself a mental slap, remembering Shazia's words- ‘if he apologizes for the first time, play hard to get.’

  If he was indeed here to apologize, (and it certainly seemed like it, if the guilty look in his eyes was anything to go by,) I wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

  “Nothing you could say could make me want to stay here and talk to you,” I said with feeling. Cute or not, he had been way out of line yesterday. I was still smarting over his comments and I intended to let him know.

  He leaned against the door and it clicked shut as he crossed his arms across his chest and grinned smugly at me. Crap. Alone in a room with Luke Astor. Bad things tend to happen. “I love you,” he said suddenly. I snapped my head in his direction, staring at him wildly. Did he just-? “Will you marry me?”