The Pull of Destiny (48 page)

“Leave and I won’t. Stay and
I will.” I cocked my head to the side. “Your choice.”

Biting on his lip, Luke
sighed. “CiCi, I know you’re mad. And I know I’m acting dumb right now. But I
thought you knew that I didn’t mean what I said.”

Now he assumed that I was a
psychic.
Dumbass.

“Oh, is this the part where
I’m supposed to say no worries and forget it never happened?" My voice
dripped with sarcasm. “You humiliate me like that in front of your friends,
make me feel like dirt and you think I’ll forgive you just as soon as you say
you didn’t mean it?”

Luke scratched the back of
his neck, hunching his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he sighed.

All signs of playfulness had
flown out of the window and I was glad.
There’s nothing worse than being
angry with someone who’s treating everything like a joke.
Well, except for
having over 13 mistresses and having your business aired in every tabloid
across America.

This isn’t the time or place
for golf jokes, Celsi. Handle your business!

“There’s a limit to how many
times you can say sorry to one person. You crossed that limit with me a long
time ago.”

“CiCi-.”

I shook my head before he
could continue, my stomach tied into knots at the mention of that pet name. I
used to think it was adorable. Now it just sounded hollow.

“Don’t. Don’t call me that.
And just leave me alone.”

“Not till you hear me out.
Please. Just listen.”

Tossing my hair over my
shoulder, I groaned exasperatedly. “You don’t get it, Luke. I don’t want to
hear your half-baked stories! I just want to play the piano and forget I live
in a world populated by serial jerks. And in case you missed it, I’m talking
about you.”

Eyes widening, Luke bit his
lip as he fidgeted uncomfortably. “You really
are
pissed.”

Finally he gets it!

“Yes I am! You
used
me
to piss off your dad! All this time I thought our “friendship” meant something
to you, but it was all a front!”

Breathing hard, I bent the
piano book back and forth in my hand.
I wish I had Miss Campbell’s stress
ball.

Luke glanced nervously at the
book to make sure I wasn’t about to use it on him, and then spoke. “Just let me
explain.”

“No.” I shook my head, my
lips set in a hard line. “It’s over. Our friendship is done.”

Anyone else would have left
the room at that moment, seeing that I wasn’t about to budge, but Luke was just
dumber than most people, I guess. He really thought I was just hurt but would
be over it in a minute.
You don’t know Celsi Sawyer.

He spread his hands in a
supplicating gesture, a contrite look on his face. “CiCi- I mean, Celsi. You
have every right in the world to be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” I muttered. “I
just hate you.”

Luke blinked; utter confusion
flicking across his face. He gamely decided to continue. “I know what I did
wasn’t clever and I feel terrible, but if you’d only let me explain-.”

“No.” He was beginning to
sound like a broken record and it was getting old. “I know you’re used to
getting what you want from all the girls at this school, but count me out from
now.” I gave him a seriously filthy look. “You can smile and show off those
dimples all you want, but it won’t make me want to listen to anything you feel
the need to say.”

Casually enough, Luke said,
“You’re listening now.”

Time to put this sucker on
blast.

“You listen to me,” I said,
putting the poor, battered music book back on the piano and advancing a step
closer to Luke, who gave me a wary look. “I poured my heart out telling you
about Rhea. I never told anyone about how I felt about what happened to her,
not even my aunt! And I tell you and it turns out that pretty much everything
you told me was a lie and you’ve just been laughing at me behind my back with
your friends! And you think I want to hear you out?”

I couldn’t stop the tears
from forming in my eyes. Every time I got angry, my heart rate sped right up
and I got teary. I blame it on genetics. The clearest memory I have of my mom
is when a social worker came to take me away and she started screaming
profanities at her as I was put in the car. She stood on the porch of the
women’s center we were staying in, tears running down her face and she cried
and screamed. I was four years old and I stayed in foster care for 2 months
until my mom was ‘clean enough’ to ‘reclaim’ me, but every night before I went
to sleep, I could still see the tears on her face as she begged the social
worker not to take me.

But I digress.
A lot.

Tugging on his earlobe, Luke
said, “Wait-,” but I didn’t let him finish.

“Let me tell you, it’ll be an
icy day in hell before I...”

My voice died in a strangled
croak as Luke put a finger on my lips. He looked down at me, guilt shining in
his green eyes. I couldn’t move as he spoke. “I wasn’t laughing behind your
back when you told me about Rhea,” he said with such conviction that I almost
believed him. Almost.
I’m not that gullible, thanks very much.
“I would
never do that to-.”

My temporary paralysis broke
and I slapped a surprised Luke’s hand away from my face, scurrying back. “Don’t
you
dare
touch me,” I hissed.

“Everything I did, everything
I said to you was the truth.” Luke swallowed hard, sighing. “What happened the
other day was a huge mistake. You weren’t supposed to hear-.”

“A mistake? You talk about
manipulating me just to get back at your dad and you call that a mistake? Did
you take your meds today?”

A sulky expression slid on
Luke’s face. “I haven’t been manipulating you,” he said slowly.

“Sure. I guess this was all
really convenient for you, huh? Find someone to help you out with your stupid
list and with pissing off daddy. Regular multitasking.” I shook my head, my
nose flaring. “You know what I learned about you when I was stupid enough to
think we were friends? That you’re a good liar.”

“Celsi-.”

I jutted my chin out. “Just
leave me alone. Find someone else to make a fool out of. Don’t talk to me.
Hell, don’t even look at me!”

Luke’s answer was painfully
simple. Slumping his shoulders dejectedly, he looked me in the eye and said, “I
can’t.”

Don’t believe him, he’s
LYING!

Icy glare intact, I said,
“You should have thought of that before you screwed up so badly,” in a hoity-toity
voice.

All the fight had gone out of
Luke and he just stood there staring at me. “What can I do to show you that I’m
sorry?” he asked, the guilt evident on his face.

“Nothing! I don’t care if
you’re sorry! You made it very clear how you feel about me, so I’m taking your
advice and unsticking to you!” I had had it.
Doesn’t he get it?
I didn’t
want to talk to him. I didn’t want his apologies. I didn’t want to look at him.
“So why don’t you just get it through your thick skull that I don’t want
anything to do with you and get out!”

Luke’s lips parted and his
eyes widened as he gawked at me. “Oh my God.”

Adding to my fury was the
fact that he looked more turned on than intimidated by my tirade (which had not
been the expected outcome) and this just made me seethe.

A ghost of a grin on his
face, Luke saluted me arrogantly. “I’ll talk to you when you’ve calmed down,”
he said and let himself out of the room just as I picked up the discarded music
book and threw it in his direction. It hit the door with a loud thunk and I hid
my face in my hands, letting out a scream of frustration.

It was only later that I
realized that Luke hadn’t mentioned the list.

Monday. Science class, Dalton
School.

I suck at arguments. If I
know I’m going to have one, I always think of smart, witty things to say, but
they fly out of my head when I’m face to face with the person I’m arguing with.
And after it’s over, I always come up with the dopest retaliation’s known to
mankind.

Still, at least I was happy
knowing I had given Luke a piece of my mind. When he got his head out of the
clouds long enough to think hard about everything I said, he would realize that
he was persona non grata with me and I really didn’t want anything to do with
him.
I hope.

And until Rick tapped my
shoulder in the middle of yet another mind-blowingly boring Science class, I
actually thought he’d gotten the point. I hadn’t heard from him all weekend, so
I had assumed he had given up!  And this time I didn’t even have to ask Mr. Non
Verbal who the note was for because my name was written neatly on the folded
piece of paper.

Hey you. I like your hair
like that. Luke.

Only an act of divine
providence stopped me from reaching up to pat my hair down. I washed it this
morning and didn’t have the time to blow-dry it, so it had decided to dry
curly. And obviously Luke would notice.

I stood up, walked to the
front of the class, balled the note up and threw it in the garbage. Almost
laughing at the shock on Luke’s face, I sat back down in my seat, confident
that he wouldn’t have the nerve-.

Tap, tap.

Okay... so you’re still mad
at me, I see. Luke.

How observant of you.

I ripped the note up into
tiny little shreds and made a nice little pile on my desk. Unfortunately, some
people are more persistent than others. See, if I had tried passing someone two
notes within the space of three minutes and the said notes got the treatment I
had given to Luke’s, I’d give up. Period. So what the hell was his problem?
Apart from being stupid, of course.

Obviously someone’s not into
saving the environment. We’re learning about recycling- don’t abuse paper.
Luke.

I’m
abusing paper? He’s the one
who’s ripping it out of his notebook to write to someone who clearly isn’t
interested!

I guess you’re hell-bent on
not talking to me, huh? That hurts. Luke.

Deal with it.
I was feeling proud of
myself for staying true to myself and not being a sellout. He could apologize
till his voice was hoarse, I wasn’t gonna give an inch.

A squeak sounded as a chair
was pushed back, and before I could blink, black jeans had passed by my desk
and settled in the (inconveniently) empty seat in front of me. I raised my
eyes, even though my sense of smell was already telling me who had vacated his
seat from the back of the class to sit in the spotlight. Luke was wearing
another shirt that belonged to Ahmed, which meant he was still staying over at
the El Hamed’s. Shazia hadn’t said a thing about that, but after the way I went
in on her the day she did, I wasn’t surprised.

Miss Swanson paused from her
texting spree (I swear that lady’s iPhone is glued to her hand) to glare at
Luke.

“I just want to borrow a
pencil,” Luke explained cheerfully, his trademark ‘winning’ smile no doubt on
his face.

I scowled down at my book,
not taking in anything I was reading.
Not from me you don’t.

Luke waited till Miss Swanson
had decided that there was nothing illegal about him changing seats and
returned her focus to her phone, and then he twisted in his seat to look at me.
His closeness was disconcerting, mainly because he looked so cute. His hair had
been trimmed over the weekend and as much as it pained me to admit, he looked
hot.

The first words that came out
of his mouth were, “I’m sorry.”

Predictable.

“Shut up.”

My awesome rejoinder of the
day.
Take that, Luke!

He leaned in closer. “I
really need you to just let me explain,” he whispered. “Please?”

“No.”

“I’m a jerk, okay? I admit
it.”

Shaking my hair back, I
smirked at him. “I knew that already.”

He sighed. “And I deserve
everything you’re saying to me, but- can you just hear my side of the story
before you decide to never talk to me again?” A puppy dog look. “I don’t want
you to never talk to me again. That would suck.”

I glanced to my left and my
right. Nobody was looking, which was good. I didn’t feel like people watching
me and Luke have a heart to heart in Science class. Giving him a disbelieving
look, I said, “Is that supposed to make me feel bad?”

Luke shook his head,
restlessly moving around on the chair. “No, I just- don’t you ever do or say
things you don’t mean?” he asked peevishly.

I gave him a blank,
Snooki-esque stare. “Not like that.”