The Pull of Destiny (45 page)

“Luke, we’re already at the
door.”

“I know but- I can’t go
through with it.”

Nuh uh, buddy. I didn’t come
out here for nothing. We’re gonna give blood even if I have to drag your butt
in there!
I
gave Luke an appraising look. He was several inches taller than me, but rather
thin. If worst came to worst-

“Why you looking at me like
that?”

Luke’s voice jolted me out of
my study and I blinked, my mind a blank. The only thing I could think of to say
was “Huh?”

“You were looking at me like
you wanted to- manhandle me.” He smirked, moving closer to me and wiggling his
eyebrows. “Do you wanna manhandle me?”

Ye Gods, is my face really
that expressive? Sure I wanted to manhandle him, but not in the way he was
making it sound, with his husky voice and those sexy eyes- was he flirting with
me?

Do. Not. Think. About. Luke.
Flirting. With. You.

Putting my hand on my hip, I
looked up at him, swallowing hard.
Dammit, focus!
“Don’t change the
subject, Luke. You’re going to give blood. You already made an appointment and
you’re not backing out now.” He opened his mouth to say something and I
steamrolled over him. “If you back out now, you’ll let me down.”

A sexy groan from Luke.
“CiCi-,” he started, but I wasn’t done yet.

“And what did you say about
letting me down?” Digging into my jeans pockets, I pulled out the crumpled
piece of paper we had written our notes on. Clearing my throat, I started
reading. “‘I don’t wanna let you down. Luke. So what-.”

Luke cut me off by pressing a
finger firmly against my lips. I shivered involuntarily, feeling the heat rise
in my cheeks. What was he doing? He leaned in closer to me, slowly licked his
lips and said, “Okay, point taken. You’ve convinced me. Let’s go do this before
I chicken out.” Removing his finger like an afterthought, he grinned at me. “I
finally found an effective way to shut you up.”

I let out a quavering breath,
my legs feeling wobbly. I didn’t get it. Obviously Luke had figured out that I
had a tiny crush on him- he couldn’t be that stupid and oblivious.
Could he?
If he wasn’t stupid, why did he insist on doing things that he knew would
unnerve me? Was he just sadistic like that?
Yes.
Probably.

Without saying another word
(he really did find an effective way to silence me) I led the way into the
donation center.

A happy nurse met us and after
asking us a few preliminary screening questions, made us fill out some forms
and show her our ID. As soon as that was done, she led us to side by side beds
in another room. I lay down on one bed, a slightly pale Luke on the other.

“Make yourselves comfortable.
I’ll be right back,” the nurse told us and hurried out of the room.

Luke immediately stretched
out his arm, his hand seeking mine. “I swear I’m gonna scream, throw up or both
if you don’t hold my hand,” he threatened. Grinning to myself, I slipped my
hand in his and he gripped it hard, closing his eyes.

“It’s gonna be okay, you’ll
see,” I reassured him as he stroked my palm with his thumb.

He’s not trying to turn you
on, so stop overanalyzing things.

Still, it was nice to think
he was, however weird that sounds.

“Talk to me,” he murmured,
threading his fingers through mine and squeezing softly.

“About what?”

I felt him shrug. “What’s
going on in your life? Catch me up on what’s happened to you since the gala. I
told you I missed you.”

My eyebrows rose
involuntarily. “No you didn’t,” I exclaimed bluntly.

A snort of laughter. “Well, I
should’ve,” he replied cryptically. “So spill.”

But the nurse came back at
that very moment and started affixing the needles and setting up all the
equipment.

“Relax, guys,” she told us,
obviously seeing how hard Luke was biting on his lip as she carefully inserted
the needle in his arm. “10 minutes tops. Just breathe.”

That’s what I’ve been trying
to tell him!

After making sure that
everything was okay, the nurse left again and I started watching the bags
slowly fill up. Then I decided that wasn’t a very good idea because it was
making me feel slightly queasy and I squeezed a silent Luke’s hand, wondering
if he was crying.
Teehee.

“You okay?” I asked. He
nodded and I racked my brain to find some nonsense chatter to fill in the
silence. “Did I tell you that Ahmed caught up with me when I got home after the
gala to ask how it was?”

Luke actually opened an eye
at that, looking rather interested even as he avoided looking at the filling
bags. “Oh yeah? He gave you the 3
^rd
degree too?”

Wondering what kind of
questions Ahmed had sprung on Luke and what Mr. Erratic himself had answered, I
evasively replied, “He just wanted to know if I had fun.”

Actually, Ahmed had wanted to
know every single detail of what had went down between Luke and me at the gala.
What he was especially interested in was whether Luke had ‘tried anything’ but
I thought it was best not to bring it up since we both agreed it never
happened.
And because Ahmed is a nosy, but hot jerk.

“So what did you say? That my
dad and his rudeness scared you off?” Luke’s tone seemed nonchalant, but did I
detect a bit of worry there?

“No, I said I had a good time
and I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again…” My voice trailed off as I realized
that might just sound like I was asking for a second date. I wasn’t.
Was I?
No.
I slapped my forehead with my free hand.
I’m such a ditz.

“Did you really have fun or
were you just trying to make me feel less guilty about my dad’s douchebagness?”

I grinned at his made up
word, shifting in the bed to look at him. He was staring up at the ceiling,
looking pensive.

Choosing my words carefully,
I said, “Under the circumstances, I had a good time.”

Luke sighed, giving me a
sideways look. “Thanks,” he said, almost in a whisper. “My dad- he doesn’t like
me that much. And he likes taking his frustrations out on me, especially when
my friends are around. I should be used to it, but it still… it gets to me.”

My eyes were fixated on his
sweet, sad face. Whatever had happened between Luke and his dad had obviously
hit Luke hard and it showed. He clearly loved his father, but somewhere along
the line, one of them had done something so hurtful that it had ruined their
relationship.

“Why does he do that?” I
asked, not sure what else I could say that would wipe that look off Luke’s
face. I wanted the ‘free’, bad joke cracking Luke back, not this scared of
needles sad Luke.

His answer was simple.
“Because he can.”

I smiled bitterly. “Sounds
scarily like Nate.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh.”

“You know that Simple Plan
song, ‘Perfect’?” Without waiting to hear if I
did
know it (I do, but
that’s totally beside the point) he continued. I let him talk. He sounded like
he really needed to. “Me and my dad, it’s exactly like that. I love him but
he’s so hard to like. When I was a kid, I wanted to be just like him but now-
he’s been pushing me away ever since I was old enough to walk. And he hasn’t
really wanted anything to do with me since he divorced my mom. And now I know
who he really is and what he’s really like, I can’t look up to him anymore.”
His grip on my hand tightened and I squeezed back, my heart constricting as he
continued to talk. This was so sad. “I wish he could just see how I’m trying to
change. All I want to do is be a better role model for Faith, be the big
brother she can look up to before it’s too late. Before- something happens to
me.”

He’s thinking of the
aneurysm.

Blinking back tears at the
emotion in Luke’s voice, I said, “I know it doesn’t mean anything coming from
me, but I’m proud of you for admitting you know you did wrong and wanting to
change.”

Luke bit his bottom lip as he
smiled at me. “Thanks, CiCi. That actually means a lot. And I’m sorry my dad
was such a jerk to you.”

I shrugged casually. “That’s
okay. I know not everyone can like me.”

His expression serious as his
eyes raking over my face, Luke murmured, “I like you.”

“Okay kiddies, how are we
doing?”

The nurse bustled back into
the room, her loud chatter saving me from replying to Luke’s admission as she
removed the needles, giving us a cotton swab to press on the injection site. I
felt heated, and it wasn’t due to the lack of blood. How come every time Luke
and I were together, something weird happened? Was I being given some sort of
subconscious message, or was I just paranoid?

After making us sit up for a
few minutes to help the lightheaded feeling pass, the nurse led us to the small
canteen.

“Help yourselves to some food
and drink lots of juice,” she said. “Once you’re done you can go.” A huge smile.
“Thanks for donating, guys!”

Luke steered me to a table
packed with cookies, sandwiches and juice. “Scratch one more item off the
list!” he exclaimed, even as I gave him a look of utter disbelief.

What the hell?
Where’d the sad, brooding
Luke disappear to so fast?
Mr. Jekyll and Doctor Hyde for real.

Still, I was glad he was back
to his own version of normal. When he slipped into those introspective moods it
always saddened me. Although my own mother hadn’t wanted me, my aunt had
stepped in and taken better care of me than my then 19 year old mother could
have done. Luke had everything in his life apart from love, and that was the
most important thing.
It’s all for love.

“See? It wasn’t scary at
all!” I just had to get a dig in.

“Are you nuts? I don’t think
I got enough nerve to go through that again. And definitely not alone.” He
nudged me, almost making me spill the juice I was pouring into a Styrofoam cup.
“Thanks for coming.”

I smiled up at him. “No
problem.” The fascinated expression on his face as he stared at me was slightly
disconcerting. He looked entranced, but his lips were twitching as though he
was dying to laugh.
Do I have something on my face?

Bending over the refreshments
(and surreptitiously rubbing my cheek) I mused “I wonder what’s in these
sandwiches?” even as my stomach rumbled with hunger.
How unladylike.

Luke heard my stomach and
laughed as he scarfed down a cookie. “Shoulda let me buy you that candy apple.
And I’d stick to the cookies, they look…”

His voice trailed off as I
straightened, laughing.
The sandwiches don’t look that bad!
A bit dry
perhaps, but not inedible. Turning to face him, I suddenly realized what had
made him stop in the middle of a sentence.

Wendy was standing in the
doorway of the canteen, slack jawed with shock. Beside her stood a tall,
greying man who could only be her dad, unless she was cheating on Ahmed with a
sugar daddy.

I wouldn’t be surprised.

“Luke? Celsi? What the hell
are you two doing here- together?”

Luke’s Point of View

Dalton School Quad, next day.

When in doubt, save your own
ass first.

That was the one thing I had
learned from my dad. He’s the master at protecting his own hide, especially
when he’s the one at fault. And right now, I needed to do that; otherwise I
would have no friends. And as shallow and snooty as Wendy, Ahmed and the rest
were, they had been my best friends for ages. I’d only known CiCi as a friend
for a month or so. It was easy to see where my loyalties lay. I could do this.
I could make everything alright, because thanks to Wendy and her big mouth, all
my friends were pissed off at me.

Wendy was on my shit list.
After she spotted CiCi and me in the donation center canteen (what are the
odds
that her doctor dad would choose that day to pick her up from school?) she
wouldn’t leave me alone. Even when I assured her that we were just working on a
project together, I could tell she didn’t believe me. And by the next day, she
had spread the news around my circle of friends and everybody wanted to know
why I had been blowing them off to hang with Celsi Sawyer.

The crappy thing was, they
were right. I had been blowing them off to hang with CiCi. They just had the
wrong idea about why, but I wasn’t going to tell them the real reason I was
hanging with her so much. No way Jose. If these guys knew about my aneurysm,
they’d drop me just like that. And since falling back onto the old ‘science
project’ explanation wasn’t cutting it, I knew it was up to me to crank the
lies up a notch, smooth over this rough patch and practice being a bit more
discreet in the future.

I knew exactly what I had to
do. And when I met Wendy, Ahmed, Jake Matthews and Denise Harris on the quad at
lunch time, I had my plan of action outlined in my head. Unfortunately, things
never go to plan, especially when you’re me.