The Pull of Destiny (21 page)

BOOK: The Pull of Destiny
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“Later,
sweetie. Let’s go.” Hope yanked Faith off dad in one fluid movement and exited
the room.

Wow. Not even
his own wife could stand to be in the same room with him for more than 5
minutes.

Dad moved
closer to me, a questioning look on his face. “What’s this I hear about you not
going to the gala?” he asked without preamble.

I leaned
against the couch, looking up at him. “Dad, we haven’t seen each other in two
days. Couldn’t you say ‘hi, son, how you doing, how you feeling, did the
aneurysm get you yet’?”

 

Even though I
told CiCi that I wasn’t having a ‘crisis’, I lied, okay? I’d been up till late
last night, reading up people’s aneurysm stories, just like I said. I didn’t
wanna die, have a stroke or end up on life support but I had pretty good
chances of going either way. The stories had spooked me so much that I woke up in
a cold sweat twice in the middle of the night. And since I’m usually the
heaviest sleeper ever, you see how scared I was.

And, judging by
the look on my dad’s face, he didn’t give a damn about how I was doing. Why was
I so surprised? Could be because I spent the afternoon with someone who
actually cared about what I was going through. Every time I so much as coughed,
CiCi looked anxious. I wasn’t gonna lie, I found that pretty cute. It had been
a long time since anyone had shown concern for me.

“You’re still
here, so I guess it hasn’t got you yet,” dad said, laughing at his own joke.

“Your powers of
observation are truly outstanding,” I murmured. The prick wasn’t supposed to
hear it, but I guess all that eavesdropping he did really sharpened his
hearing.

“What?” he
snarled, looking more like a bull dog than anything else.

Sighing, I got
to my feet. “Nothing. Welcome back, padre. I’m going to my room.” I moved past
him, feeling nauseous. I needed to lie down.

Dad spoke as I
reached the door. “You forgot your tux,” he said coldly. “Go try it on. If it
doesn’t fit, Hope will take it back and get you another one.”

Leaning my head
against the oak door, I said, “Dad. I don’t know how clear I can make this. I’m
not going to this or any other gala.” I turned around to face dad as I
continued. He had a frown on his face, as usual. “I think galas are stupid and
I’d rather be thrown in a pit with lions than spend hours in a room full of
pervy old men and bored desperate housewives.”

Shaking the
rolled up newspaper that was in his hand, dad glared at me. “Sometimes I wonder
if you really are an Astor,” he said while I stared at him stonily. “Maybe that
mother of yours had an affair with the pool boy.”

Typical. Every
time dad wanted to get to me, he used my mom. Pretty weird, considering he had
tried his hardest to eradicate everything in the house that reminded him of her
when they got divorced.

“Keep hope
alive,” I said, arching my eyebrows. “Unfortunately, we never had a pool boy
because we don’t have a pool so you’re just gonna have to accept that I’m your
son.” I put my hand on the door, ready to push it open. “So, if we’re done
here...”

“Yes,
unfortunately your mother didn’t start cheating on me until after you were born
and the paternity tests prove that you are an Astor, so as part of your
familial duty, I expect to see you at the gala in your tuxedo.” I opened my
mouth to retort but he talked over me. “No ifs, ands, buts’ or maybe’s’.” He
sneered at me. “Now you can leave. And change out of those stupid pajamas, you’re
not 5 anymore.”

“I wonder if
granddad ran your life like you’re trying to run mine?” I asked him
conversationally, leaning against the door.

 

I was tired of
being treated like a 3 year old by him. Even Faith got more leeway than I did
these days. Sure, I went through a phase when my main goal was to piss dad off
with everything I did. Sure, I got more DUI’s than I wanted to think about.
Sure, I was once a selfish, fast living party boy. But Shane’s death made me
re-evaluate my life and I decided that I didn’t much like myself. I still
didn’t like myself much, but at least I was trying to change. Not that my dad
noticed or cared.

“My father had
no reason to run my life because I always behaved. Unlike you.” I rolled my
eyes at the scornful look he tossed in my direction. “I’m pretty sure you’re
trying to give me a heart attack.”

I scratched my
chin. “Must not be trying hard enough.”

“I don’t see
what else you could pull,” dad said, starting to pace up and down the living
room, counting my misdemeanors off with his fingers. “We’ve been through the
drugs, the drunk driving, the fights at school, the endless parties- way to
cement your place in the screw-up hall of fame.” He stopped pacing and faced
me, a triumphant glow in his eyes. “That’s all you’ll ever be, you know. My
screw-up of a son.”

I shrugged,
pretending that I didn’t care, but I did. All I had ever wanted was to be liked
by my dad. Isn’t that all a kid ever wants, just to have a good relationship
with his dad? But I never had the chance, because he never gave me a chance.

“The defective
gene must come from your side of the family. The apple doesn’t fall too far
from the tree, you know,” I said cynically.

Dad’s top lip
curled up. “If you keep up talking like that, I’ll make sure you never see a
cent of your inheritance,” he said softly, jamming his hands into his jacket
pockets. Probably so he wouldn’t snap and deck me. Smart man.

“Dad, I’ve got
enough money in my trust fund to live on for the rest of my life,” I said
wearily, my stomach churning. I felt like I was about to hurl. “And you know
what; you’ve been talking about cutting me off for years! Maybe you should do
it before one of us dies.”

Scowling at me,
dad growled “Watch your mouth, young man.”

But I was just
too riled up to care about the dangerous tone in his voice. My head hurt. I
felt sick. I’d just witnessed a friend being chewed out by her own cousin. I
didn’t feel good about anything! And I wasn’t about to let dad walk all over
me. It was time for me to get something off my chest.

Shaking my
head, I said “No, you’ve been having a problem with me since Shane died.
Actually, you’ve had a problem with me my whole life, but since Shane died
you’ve been a real dick about it. You got something you want to say to me, then
go ahead and say it. If you don’t, quit nagging me!”

Dad stared at
me for a long second, an inexpressive look on his face as my chest heaved with
pent up rage.

Finally he said,
“Find a suitable date for the gala. You’re going. And you’re wearing that tux.”

With that as
his parting shot, he walked out of the living room, leaving no doubt as to who
had won this round. I stared at the ceiling, my hands clenched into fists.

 

***

 

“I’m sorry; I
don’t know what you’re bitching about.”

I looked up
from my barely touched lunch, locking eyes with a vindictive looking Wendy.

“What?” I
asked. I had just finished explaining the abbreviated version of my altercation
with my dad and Wendy was showing no sympathy. Then again, what else did I
expect from the ice queen herself?

She smirked,
resting her head on Ahmed’s shoulder as he stuffed a handful of pretzels in his
mouth. “We’re all being forced to go to this stupid gala, what makes you think
you’re special enough not to go?”

The fact that I
had a swelling in my brain that was currently making me see two Wendy’s?

But I couldn’t
tell her that. She already thought I was being a baby by complaining about
going to the gala. If she knew about the aneurysm, she’d probably label me a
freak.

“Dude. I’m
gonna have to wear horns at some point during that night,” Ahmed said in a glum
tone, spraying crumbs on the table. “You’re lucky the most you’ll have to deal
with is a stupid tux.”

I grinned. His
cousin’s fashion show just got stranger and stranger as it approached.

“I wish I could
see my sweetie in horns,” Wendy cooed, kissing Ahmed’s cheek.

“He combs his
hair so they won’t show,” I joked, pushing spaghetti around in my plate.

Ahmed flipped
me off. “Prick,” he grinned. He turned to Wendy, nuzzling her neck. “The only
reason he knows about that is coz he’s my assistant.”

We all burst
out laughing. It felt pretty good, just kicking back and not worrying about
anything for the moment. Perfect way to spend Monday lunch.

 

In a cloud of
perfume, Joanna was next to me, snaking an arm around my waist as she looked up
at me. “What’s going on?” she asked curiously.

Making a face
at me, Wendy replied, “Baby Luke here’s crying coz he’s being forced to go to
the gala and he needs to find a date.”

Rolling her
eyes, Joanna nodded. “Me too.” She rubbed her head on my shoulder, her hair
feeling good against my cheek. “You should just take me, baby.”

I looked at
her, a grin on my face. “Last time I checked, you had a boyfriend,” I said.

“Last time I
checked, you didn’t care,” Joanna retorted.

Ahmed snorted
with laughter. “Oh, snap!”

Tossing her
head, Joanna said, “I don’t think Timothy would mind if you took me.”

I laughed.
“Yeah, he wouldn’t mind coz he’d kill me!”

Being part of a
love triangle was something I wasn’t up for.

Joanna leaned
in closer to me, her lips brushing my ear. “I’ll make it worth your while,” she
whispered breathily.

Playing along,
I turned to look into her eyes. “Really?”

“If you two
would stop breathing each other’s air for a sec, I need to ask you something,
Joanna,” Wendy said, rapping on the table. “Where’d you get that top?”

The girls
started chatting and I slouched in my chair. I had no intention of taking
Joanna to the gala. What we had was an understanding- we could hook up in
secret and absolutely nobody could know about it. Yet somehow the entire school
knew, Joanna’s boyfriend included. I strongly suspected the only reason he
hadn’t called me out yet was because Joanna asked him not to. I didn’t know why
Joanna still wanted me when she’s been the one who dumped me but it was six
months later and we were still hooking up. It wasn’t healthy though.

I looked up as
Joanna and Wendy finished talking, a piercing laugh catching my attention.
Ahmed jumped in his seat, staring around the canteen.

“Dammit, could
Robyn possibly get any louder?” Wendy asked, clapping her hands to her ears.
“She’s like a freaking hyena!”

“She’s so loud
that...” Ahmed started, regaling them with a story about Robyn and her vocal
range while I caught a glimpse of CiCi, carrying a tray and laughing at
something Shazia said as she sat down.

She didn’t look
hurt or in any pain and a weight rolled off my heart, to my surprise. I guess I
didn’t know how worried I was that Nate had hurt her physically till now.
Luckily, here she was, looking as pretty and fresh faced as always and I just
couldn’t stop looking at her as she tossed her curly hair over her shoulder.

 

As if sensing
my eyes on her, CiCi glanced up and our eyes met for the longest second. Her
lips parted and she looked as pole axed as I felt as something passed through
the air between us. Something intense that made my heart thud and had nothing
to do with the nausea I was still enduring and everything to do with CiCi
herself.

I blinked and
the moment passed. CiCi’s lips curved upwards into a smile and she lifted her
hand in a wave. Automatically, I waved back and Ahmed punched my shoulder.

“Dude, are you
hitting that?” he leered.

I snorted.
“What? Just coz I waved at her?” Shook my head. “Mind out of the gutter.”

Wendy wrinkled
her nose in CiCi’s direction. “Wasn’t she mad at you coz you called her a
skank?” she asked.

Joanna laughed,
squeezing my arm. “You called her a skank?” she echoed.

I sighed. “Not
my proudest moment,” I admitted. “We sorted it out, though.”

I wasn’t going
to tell them how we sorted it out, though.

“And now you’re
tight enough to wave at each other?” Ahmed asked curiously. Always trying to
make a big deal out of nothing.

“It was just a
tiny wave, no big deal,” I said, suddenly sounding defensive but not really
knowing why.

“OMG. You know
what you should do?”

We all looked
at Wendy as her eyes shone with an idea.

“What?” I
asked, dreading the answer. It was gonna be stupid and mean, I could tell.

“Awesome way to
piss off daddy.” Wendy leaned in closer to me. “Invite Celsi to the gala.”

I raised my
eyebrows, popping my knuckles. “Why would that piss off my dad?”

“Hello, she’s
poor!” Wendy said it like I ought to have remembered this vital piece of
information. She beamed. “You can pretend you’re in love with her, your dad
would hate it!”

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