The Pull of Destiny

by Hotcheri

  Robyn’s dad pulled up in his sporty red Mercedes as I watched idly. To my genuine surprise, Robyn hugged Shazia and skipped down the stairs to get in the car.

  Well, now. This is getting interesting.

  Shazia walked purposefully down the stairs, her wooly beret jammed on her head. I took a couple of steps forward just in time to see her stride down the sidewalk. What the...

  “Where the hell is she going?” I murmured to myself, staring.

  Before I could call out to her and (nosily, of course) ask where she was going, my personal driver pulled up to the school entrance in the Range Rover which had been mine before dad saw fit to take it away from me. I sighed with relief. Fairly inconspicuous car. Perfect. Ignoring the baffled look Troy gave me as I slid into the front seat; I slammed the door shut and pointed at Shazia's departing back. As soon as she hit Lexington Avenue, I knew she would be swallowed up by the crowd. I didn’t want that to happen, not before I knew where she was going.

  “Hey, Troy, do me a favor and follow that girl with the red backpack,” I said, craning my neck to keep Shazia in my sight as Troy started the engine.

  “Master Astor, I’m supposed to take you to your therapy session,” Troy reminded me gently as we rolled down the street.

  I completely forgot I had therapy this afternoon. However, following Shazia was far more interesting than lying on a couch while my therapist undoubtedly played Sudoku.

  And if my dad got pissed at me for not going to therapy, what else was new? He was always getting pissed off at me for something. Flushing the toilet in the middle of the night. Scraping my spoon on the bottom of my soup bowl. Talking. Whatever, I was a big boy. I could handle his anger.

  “Yeah, I know,” I said. “We’ll go. Just- follow that girl. I have to look out for her.”

  Not for Ahmed’s sake, either.

  To the best of my knowledge, Shazia had never ventured out into New York City by herself. She led a sheltered life and whenever she had to go out, she was either with her brother, parents, friends or bodyguard. Her family was uber protective of their little princess and I was inclined to be the same. After all, I’d been friends with Ahmed ever since he was held back in the 6th grade (which is why he’s in the same grade as his year younger sister). Shazia was kinda like my little sister, in a way. I didn’t want anything to happen to her and know that I’d seen her leave school by herself but didn’t do a thing to stop her.

  Plus, I was really curious as to where she was going. My mind raced. Did quiet, sensitive Shazia have a secret boyfriend stashed somewhere? I grinned to myself as Troy drove a few feet behind an unaware (I hope) Shazia. If she did, I was so rooting for her. Good for you, Shazia.

  A block away from Dalton, Shazia suddenly stopped. I was pretty sure that my whole spying mission had been for nothing and that she would turn around and head back to school, but she surprised me yet again by flagging down a taxi.

  And the plot thickens.

  I scratched my chin. “Curiouser and curiouser,” I murmured to myself.

  Troy took charge of the situation as the cab pulled away from the curb. “Follow the taxi?” he asked perfunctorily, already trailing it.

  “You know it.”

  This whole Shazia adventure had actually taken my mind off CiCi, which was a momentous feat since I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her the whole day. So imagine my surprise when I suddenly realized that we were in East Harlem. Shazia didn’t have a secret boyfriend; she was visiting CiCi undercover, which meant that something had happened to her!

  The taxi swung up to the curb outside the decrepit housing unit that CiCi lived in. I bit my lip as Shazia paid the cab driver and opened the door.

  What to do? She was obviously going in to check on CiCi. I had to act fast. This was probably the only chance I was going to get to find out what was going on, although I had the sinking feeling that I already knew.

  Shazia got out of the cab and slowly walked into the building, her arms wrapped around her as she looked around with a nervous air. I felt nervous too- I’d heard bad things about this neighborhood, even though it seemed deserted right now.

  Half getting out of the car, I told Troy to go park up a block. “I’ll call you when I’m done,” I said. There was no way I was gonna have him park where Nate might see him.

  Before he could reply and talk me out of it, I ran into the building, hearing Shazia's heels click-clacking on the stairs on the floor above me as I followed. Thank God for noisy floors.

  The building looked far worse on the inside. Peeling paint hung off the walls in strips, puddles of stagnant water on the floor, mold on the ceiling- I could barely believe that CiCi lived here.

  I caught up with Shazia on the second floor, thanking my extremely lucky stars that she didn’t use the elevator or I would have been screwed. Come to think of it, though, the elevator was almost certainly out of service.

  “Shazia, wait up,” I huffed and puffed- hey, I’d like to see you sprint up two flights of stairs in one go. There’s a reason I ditched the football team, alright?

  Shazia, who was striding resolutely towards the end of the hallway, jumped. She twisted to face me, clutching her bag like she thought I was going to jack it from her. Didn’t she recognize my voice?

  Her face went slack-jawed with shock as she stared wide-eyed at me. “Luke!” Her voice came out in a gasp. “What are you doing here?”

  I shrugged, walking up to her. “I followed you.” Duh. “It was pretty easy. So- why didn’t you tell me you were coming to visit CiCi?”

  It was hard to keep the irritation out of my voice. I mean, I had asked her point blank whether anything was going on with CiCi. The least she should have done was drop a hint!

  Blinking hard, Shazia said, “Because she told me not to! Oh, Luke, why did you have to follow me?”

  Shazia looked about ready to cry, but I honestly couldn’t feel bad for her right then, for purely selfish reasons. Hate it or love it, I was here and I intended to find out how CiCi was.

  Surprised that I cared so much? Yeah, I was too. But- there was just something about that girl that brought out my protective side.

  “I was looking out for you, Shazia,” I said softly.

  Shazia shook her head, her hair framing her small face. “You should go, Luke.”

  “No. Hell no. I’ve been trying to find out what’s up with CiCi all day and I’m not going anywhere now that I’m here,” I told her adamantly. “After you.”

  Looking at me, Shazia pursed up her lips. “She’s not going to like this,” she sighed.

  “Say it’s my fault.”

  A hard look. “It is your fault.”

  No sense in arguing.

  I followed Shazia as she led the way to a shabbily painted door right at the end of the hallway. Before she raised her hand to knock, I asked, “Do you know if Nate’s there?”

  Yeah, I was a bit nervous about seeing him. But if he tried to start something, I could always say that we were bringing CiCi her homework or something.

  Laughing caustically, Shazia said ,“If he was here, I wouldn’t be.” Makes sense. “CiCi told me he was out.”

  I see she’s been answering your texts and phone calls.

  “Oh. Good.”

  Nate probably wouldn’t have gotten all bent out of shape if Shazia was at the door alone. Put me into the equation- different story.

  Shazia heaved a sigh. “Here goes.”

  She knocked on the door. Almost immediately, I heard footsteps from inside the apartment and seconds later the door opened.

  I had to fight to keep my expression neutral as I scanned CiCi’s face but I couldn’t stop myself from murmuring, “Fuck,” when I saw her.

  Since I was standing to the side and in the shadows, CiCi hadn’t seen me yet but as soon as I spoke, her eyes flickered from Shazia, who was hugging her tight, to me.

  Her beautiful, bruised face fell as she backed out of Shazia's arms, ending up with her back against the
door.

  “What’s he doing here?” Her swollen bottom lip wobbled as she looked from me to her best friend. “Shaz, I told you not to tell anyone, especially not Luke!”

  Nice. That sure made me feel wanted.

  Shazia bristled. “Who do you think I am, Robyn? I didn’t tell him anything.” She jerked her head in my direction. “He followed me here from school!”

  Anger made my heart beat faster as I spread my hands palm up. “I had to since nobody was giving me straight answers!”

  Shit, was I wrong for caring about CiCi’s wellbeing? This was the thanks I got? I felt frustrated as I stared at her and I didn’t know why. Well, actually, I did know why. One look at CiCi’s battered face and I wanted to punch out the punk that did this to her.

  CiCi’s eyes filled with tears as I stepped closer to her, silently looking down at her face.

  Her beautiful face.

  She had put a Band-Aid under her right eye, but that did nothing to hide the violent bruise that spread out onto her cheek. Her bottom lip was split and swollen and she had another bruise on her chin. .

  I felt sick to my stomach. What kind of a lowlife does this kind of thing to his own cousin?

  “I told Shazia and Robyn not to tell you,” CiCi explained softly, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. “I didn’t want you to- to see me like this. I didn’t want you to come here, because I knew that you would once you found out.”

  Her tears overflowed and I instinctively hugged her to me, smoothing down her curly hair and whispering, “How could I stay away?” in her ear.

  I knew exactly what she meant. At school, CiCi was the happy, helpful, optimistic girl who was always smiling. But when she came home, it was clear to me that she had precious little to smile about. I’d never seen it that way before and I cringed at my insensitivity. She was embarrassed that I was here, in her natural habitat.

  Down the hallway, a door slammed shut and we all turned to stare.

  “We should so do this inside.” Shazia, the only level-headed one of us all, pushed me forward into the tiny apartment. She shut the door and quickly led us through the thinly carpeted narrow hallway to CiCi’s small bedroom.

  It was sparsely decorated. A mirror on the wall, a rickety bed, tattered dresser with a matching stool, a small bookcase and a slew of pictures tacked to the wall. Shazia sat down on the stool and started rummaging in her bag while I stood in the middle of the room, not knowing what to say.

  Hugging herself, CiCi gestured to the bed, not looking at me. “Make yourself at home, Luke,” she sniffled. “I’m sorry I don’t have any refreshments to offer you. Or a chair to sit on. I just-.”

  She sank down onto her bed, her head in her hands as she cried.

  “Celsi,” Shazia started, setting her bag down and getting up from the stool to comfort her friend. I got there first, the bed creaking as I sat down next to CiCi, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her trembling body closer to me. She cried into my t-shirt as Shazia shot me a worried look. I hated when CiCi cried and I hated that I had something to do with it this time. Self-loathing filled me as I ran a hand through CiCi’s soft hair. Those bruises on her face- they were there because of me.

  CiCi corroborated my gut-feeling, but she didn’t put the blame on me.

  “He saw you drop me off that morning,” she said, her voice muffled by my chest. “I don’t know, maybe he was going out and just happened to see me get out of your car. Maybe he was lying in wait.” She shrugged. “But he saw and- he said he would teach me a lesson.”

  Shazia gave a revolted snort. “He basically ambushed her right by the elevator on the ground floor. What kind of pig beats an innocent girl up in full view of whoever might be passing outside?”

  A pig called Nate, that’s who. Oh, give me five minutes with that jerk. He thought he was hard, beating up his cousin? He might have a degree in street fighting, but let’s not forget that I’m a brown belt in karate. I could teach him a thing or two about being bad.

  CiCi wiped her eyes again. “He claims to do it because he loves me,” she explained, her head feeling good on my shoulder. “Calls it tough love. He always says he doesn’t want me to end up like my mother.”

  I shook my head before she even finished talking. That was the most bull shit excuse to beat someone up that I’d ever heard. And what was the deal with CiCi ending up like her mother anyway? Didn’t Nate know what kind of girl CiCi was? She was the most sensible, happiest person I had ever met and was about as likely to morph into a crack head as I was to take Joanna back. All Nate was doing was sucking the life out of CiCi.

  “But you’re not going to be like your mom,” I said as I cradled her in my arms. “You’re smart, ambitious and you have friends who love and care for you.”

  Shazia nodded vehemently in agreement as CiCi raised her tear stained face up to look at me.

  “So did my mom,” she whispered. “And look where she ended up. Unidentified in a morgue somewhere.” She squeezed her eyes shut, tears trickling down her cheek as Shazia gave a sniff, wiping her eyes too. “I can’t even say bye to her because I don’t know where she was buried.”

  I shook my hair from my eyes, my stomach clenching at the desolate look on CiCi’s face. “You don’t know where she is. She could still be alive,” I said, my words of comfort sounding weak to my ears.

  “If she is alive, even she doesn’t want anything to do with me,” CiCi replied, sounding like she had come to terms with it years ago. I hadn’t come to terms with my mom leaving, even though I never talked about it. “I know she’s gone. You don’t know what she was like. I was only 5 and I knew she was killing herself.” She swallowed. “And- I think she’s better off dead.” She fiddled with her locket. “Sometimes, I think I am, too.”

  Shazia got up from the stool and knelt in front of CiCi, smoothing her hair away from her face.

  “Don’t ever say that,” she said fiercely, gripping CiCi’s shoulders and shaking her slightly. “You’re not better off dead. You have so much to live for. You’re going to be rid of Nate one day.” CiCi blinked back tears as Shazia opened a tube of Neosporin and dabbed a little on a cotton ball. Carefully, she pulled off the Band-Aid on CiCi’s cheek, exposing the ugly welt just under her cheek. My stomach turned. It looked painful. I hated Nate so much it was like a physical pain.

  “It won’t heal,” CiCi wept, as Shazia threw the Band-Aid in the garbage. I rubbed her shoulders through her thin tank top.

  “That’s because you keep crying, lovie,” Shazia said compassionately. CiCi winced as the Neosporin covered cotton ball touched the cut on her face. Gently, Shazia cleaned the cut and put a ‘butterfly’ Band-Aid on it, “to make the cut heal without leaving a huge scar.”

  “I don’t have anything to smile about,” CiCi replied forlornly.

  I bit my lip. “You’re still alive,” I pointed out, thinking of Shane.

  With a pang, I suddenly realized how similar Shane and CiCi were. They were both super optimistic no matter what went on in their lives. Shane had loved his life, despite having a heroin addicted father who had been in and out of rehab his whole life. He would have known just what to say to CiCi, I knew it. I couldn’t find the right thing to say, so I just held her tight, breathing in her scent.

  “For how long?” CiCi laughed humorlessly as her words chilled me to the bone. “You should have seen him that day, Luke. He wouldn’t listen to me. One day, he’ll snap. He hates me so much!”

  She started crying again as Shazia gave me a helpless look. I realized that she’d never seen her friend like this before and it scared her. “Celsi...,” she started, her voice trailing off because she had no idea what to say next.

  “It’s true! He’s hit me before, but never on my face! He doesn’t care anymore. How long can this go on?” She put her head in her hands again, her thin shoulders shaking. “I can’t do this.”

  “You will,” I said, conscious of Shazia's eyes on me, pleading with me to say someth
ing, anything to stop CiCi crying. I didn’t know what to say though. “You’re a strong girl.”

  “Not strong enough. It keeps getting worse, Luke.”

  Shazia patted her knee, close to tears herself. “Don’t give up, Celsi,” she said, her voice choked up. “Please.”

  “Why?” CiCi raised her head. “I don’t exactly have any options. I’m never gonna get out of the barrio. Nobody does. Everyone says I think I’m too good for this hood coz I go to Dalton. ‘Oh, look at that stuck up puta, she thinks she’s so amazing because of that school she’s at.’ They live to put me down; knock me down a few notches. I know I’m not good enough to make it out of here, they won’t let me. People like me just slip through the cracks.”

  I kissed her bruised cheek. “People like me won’t let that happen,” I whispered in her ear.

  “Sometimes I wonder if it’s all worth it,” CiCi sighed.

  “Don’t say that! It’s got to be worth it, Celsi,” Shazia spoke up.

  CiCi nodded. “I just can’t help it! I appreciate everything I have. I’m lucky to be alive, healthy, go to a good school and have friends who care.” I squeezed her hand as she continued, staring down at her bare feet. “But- I don’t wanna do it anymore. I’m so tired of being Nate’s punching bag. I can’t.”

  A thought popped into my head and I stared at CiCi’s tearstained face. “What about your aunt? Why doesn’t she do something about this?”

  Shazia answered my question. “She doesn’t know Nate hits her,” she explained, sitting down at CiCi’s feet.