The Weight of Destiny (16 page)

I’ve done things she would have every right to hate me for. There’s no way it will work and no way it will last, but this right here? Holding her? It’s almost enough to make me forget the rest of it.

I shiver and then she does. For some reason, it makes me smile. I wonder if what I’m feeling seeped into her, and I sort of like the thought of that. Still, I don’t want her to be cold. “It’s freezing balls out here. You should go in. We can talk later.”

Virginia leans back. “You have such a way with words.”

I shrug because I can’t help who I am.

“Come in with me.”

“Your dad…”

“We have a few hours.”

Works for me.

I take her hand and we go inside. Her house looks the same, but also as though it’s this uncharted territory. This is the first time I’m in her house when she knows how I feel about her. That I’m not just here because she’s hot, and I want to make out with her.

Virginia closes the door to her room behind us.

“A bed. I never thought I would see one of these again,” I tease as I kick out of my shoes and climb in. It’s the first time I’ve been in her room where it’s not perfectly made. I pull the covers over myself and take her in for the first time. Her hair is in a messy ponytail. She’s never worn one of those before, and she has on matching, flannel pajamas. “Even have to be coordinated to go to sleep, huh?”

“Shut up,” she tells me, lingering beside her bed.

“Lay down, Virginia. I’m just trying to get warm.”

She pauses a second and then gets under the blankets with me. “What do you think happens when you stay outside all night?”

There’s a slight awkwardness between us. We’re both on our backs, looking at the ceiling, our sides hardly touching. I want to bridge the distance. “I didn’t plan to. Cody and Tanner dropped me off. I tried throwing pebbles at your window, but that shit doesn’t work. How in the hell is that supposed to wake someone up? I tried your phone, but you didn’t answer. Then I sat down for a second to figure out what to do and…I fell asleep.”

“What? That’s crazy. How do you just fall asleep quickly like that?”

“I’ve slept in worse places. Dad used to always have people around so I’m good with passing out no matter how loud it is or how cold I might be.” It’s those words that open the door for tension to fill the room again. Just another way we’re different.

I let the silence stretch on because I can tell there’s something she wants to say. Finally, she lets the question out. “Why me? We don’t have the same idea of what’s fun. I do homework to clear my head, and I’m obsessed with college. I don’t party, and I can be bitchy and judgmental. Drea’s fun. She’s wild, strong, beautiful, and—”

“You’re strong and beautiful.”

She chuckles softly and shakes her head.

“It’s just a different kind of strength. You are who you are, and you don’t care what people think. You don’t care that you’re sober at a party where everyone is drinking. You don’t give a shit if you’re the girl who leaves to do her homework, because it’s important to you.”

“Is it still strength if the reason behind it is fear?” She sounds like she’s drifting away, her voice getting softer and softer. I need to reel her back in, keep her close, so I roll to my side, lean my head into my hand and let my elbow prop me up. With my other hand, I brush her cheek with my thumb.

“I don’t know. You’re the smart one. Regardless, I know you’re strong.” Because I know she’s dealing with more than I’ve seen; I just don’t have a clear picture of what it is.

“We’re still different, though, so why me?”

Words get trapped in my throat. I can tell her it’s because of what I said—she’s beautiful and strong. I can tell her it’s because sometimes the loneliness in her eyes mirrors mine, only I didn’t know it was there before her. Maybe it’s to prove I won’t screw up with a girl like her the way Luke thinks I will. There are a million possibilities, not all of them good. The only thing that manages to come out is, “Because the weight isn’t as heavy when I’m with you.”

Her breath hitches. I let my fingers gently glide against her neck, her throat. When she speaks, I feel the words vibrate through my fingertips. It’s a crazy-wild feeling, and I want it to keep going, want to touch all her words.

“The weight of what?” she asks.

I don’t know…
I shrug. “Of everything.”

But it’s not my words that settle into my chest. It’s hers. Virginia shakes her head and answers her own question. “Of destiny.”

It’s in this moment that I realize I’m not sure if the life I’ve always seen for myself is the one I want. Maybe it is and maybe it isn’t. I’ve always just accepted it, accepted my fate, my destiny. Dad always told me I was good, and I needed that. Craved to be good at something. Dad never asked, he just assumed.

Luke tells me it’s not what I want, tells me I’m stupid for the things I’ve done. He never asks, either.

But is it what I want?

I count that as another thing I don’t know. There’s one thing I know for sure, though. “Virginia?”

“Yeah.” She rolls her head to the side slightly so we’re making eye contact.

“Just so we’re clear this time, I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Her smile is so big I think it could make the whole world happy. “Yes.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

~Virginia~

The next couple of weeks are a mixture of strange and wonderful—wonderfully strange, I guess. In some ways, I’ve become the girl I never thought I would be. The one who hangs out with her boyfriend every day and thinks about him when he’s not there and wonders how on Earth they’ll ever make this work.

The kicker is, the world hasn’t come crashing in yet. Homework is still the first thing I do after school; it’s just now I’m doing it with Ryder. We managed to get the principal to take our proposal to the school board about the showers. I’m making great progress in FBLA.

So, in other words, I’m still me.

That doesn’t mean I’m the girl who will skip school for no reason, or the one who will be dancing on tabletops at a party. Ryder and responsibility seem to be two things I can handle together, so maybe I can be the girl who doesn’t lose her head to a boyfriend. Who can balance the two because they’re the things I want more than anything else.

That doesn’t mean I’m not scared out of my mind, though. It doesn’t mean that when the bell rings after English and I get asked to stay after, that my heart isn’t running a marathon.

“How are things going with you, Lulu?”

Sometimes it’s so weird when a teacher asks a normal question like that. It’s as though they think you’re friends or something. I mean, it’s not that I dislike my teachers. I respect what they do, but the divide is always there, and when someone tries to cross it, things get out of whack. “Fine.”

“I’m excited about your mom’s new book. Have you read it?”

Especially when they’re a fan of your mom’s. Especially when they think that will bring you closer when all it does it make you want to crawl out of your own skin.

I often wonder if Mom sacrificed herself for what she does. Maybe to others, that doesn’t make sense, but she puts so much of herself into the books she writes. She’ll stay locked in her office for days or randomly disrupt my schooling to try and get me to go on a work trip with her, so that other people can lose themselves in the world of her characters. Has she lost herself to them, as well? Is that what happened to Annette Klinger, Virginia Woolf, and Sylvia Plath? Do they give so much of themselves to people who aren’t real that they lose who they are? Their grip on what reality is or is not?

“No, I haven’t.”

Mrs. Young frowns but then tries to cover it. It’s almost as though she’s seeing more than I’m saying. As if I’m wearing my fear, when I’ve never done that before. “I better get to class.”

“Wait.” She reaches into her desk and pulls out a manila envelope. “I know you weren’t sure if you’re interested, but I got the entry packet for you. You’re the most skilled writer I’ve had the pleasure of teaching, Lulu.”

“I’m going into business.”

“You’re still moving on to higher education, and any and all accolades you get can only help you.”

Why?
,
I want to ask her.
Why are you pushing this?

“You should be proud of your talent. I can only imagine how happy it must make your mother.”

Because I’m automatically destined to be like she is. Only, I won’t accept that. “I’m not interested.”

“Take it anyway. You never know.”

So I do. It’s almost as if the package burns my hand as I carry it, before it opens a wound and lets my curiosity free. I wonder what kind of story they want.

“Mommy, look! I wrote a story. Daddy helped me type it.”

Mom hasn’t even read it, yet her eyes are already filled with glassy excitement. “You did, Virginia? Let me see it. I want to read it.”

I dance around the room as her eyes scan my adventure about the girl who writes fantastical stories that transport her to whatever world she creates. Whatever she writes comes true. My blood rushes when I think of fighting dragons, and winning the hand of the prince. There are so many journeys I want to take.

“Come here, Virginia. Give me a hug.”

I run into Mom’s arms and hold her.

“This is so good. One day you’ll write stories even better than mine.”

Dad walks into the room and grins. “Like mother, like daughter.”

Not going to happen.

I shove the envelope into my backpack and go about my day. I don’t care about the papers in my bag, about fantasy worlds and living out other people’s lives. I have my own real life to worry about.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

~Ryder~

“I’m thinking about getting a job.” Twisting the knob, I turn up the heater in Virginia’s car.

“What about school?” She sounds scandalized.

“What about it? I’m not dropping out or anything.” It’s a struggle, but I manage not to laugh at her. She’s irritated, I can tell, though she won’t tell me why. Her dad’s home today, so we can’t go to her house. It’s stupid of me not to invite her to mine, but letting her see the inside of my house is almost letting her see the real me. Messy and dirty. When we’re at her place, I can pretend.

“My dad is big on not working while I’m in school. I know a lot of people do it, and that’s great, but now’s the time to be focusing on our academics.”

This time, I can’t help but chuckle. She sounds like I imagine her mom and dad sound when they tell her that.

“Ugh. Whatever.”

Yep, she’s definitely pissy. “We need to go somewhere and do your homework, STAT. We’re reaching dangerous levels here.”

Her body tenses up slightly.

“Hey. I’m kidding. What’s wrong?” I reach over and set my hand on her leg.

“Nothing. Why do you want to get a job?”

Her words make my guts twist up. It’s what she did in the beginning, like the second night we were at the water when she asked me questions instead of answering them. It’s her way of keeping me out. “Because I feel like a piece of shit since either Shane has to take me to your school or you have to pick me up every day. Not that I’d be able to save to get a car anytime soon. By the time I got one…” She’ll be off at Stanford. And no, it’s not far, but I’m not delusional enough to think she’s still going to want to be with me then.

“It doesn’t matter.” Virginia glances my way.

Maybe not to her, but it does to me. I grab one of the strings on my hoodie and wrap it around my finger.

“I wish we could go to my house.” She drums her fingers on the steering wheel.

Me, too…
But I get it. I’m not the guy she could bring home to dad.

“What about your place? I want to meet Luke, too. Does he hate me? He seemed like he hated me that one time I saw him outside.”

“Nope. He hates me is more like it. Plus, he’s not at home. You don’t want to go to my house, it sucks. And you don’t want to meet my brother, either.” Which really means that I don’t want her to meet him. Not for the same reasons she doesn’t want her dad knowing me, though. Her dad will tell her I’m not good enough. I’m afraid Luke will make her see the same thing.

“Gee, thanks for telling me how I feel. Are we at that stage in the relationship where our thoughts aren’t our own?”

Ouch. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. And what’s wrong with you? You’re being stabby.”

“Stabby?”

That makes the corners of her mouth pull up slightly. I hadn’t even meant to use the word. It’s something Drea says sometimes. My chest gets an ache, right in the center. It’s been strained with my friends lately. It’s weird with Dre, which makes it uncomfortable for all of us. “I got it from someone.”

Virginia pulls up to a red light and looks my way. The green of her eyes is darker, sadder. I’m not sure if it’s because she knows it’s Drea or because of whatever has her in a bad mood.

“You miss them.”

“They’re still around.”

“We don’t have to hang out every day.”

“Yeah, but I don’t get to kiss them. You’re more fun.” I wait, hoping for a smile that doesn’t come. There’s a honk behind us and then she drives again.

After a minute of silence, I say, “I’m where I wanna be.”

“Me, too…” She sounds sadder about that than she should be. “My English teacher… She’s pushing me on this writing thing she wants me to do. It’s a competition.”

“You don’t want to?” The words almost don’t compute. Virginia equals school. I can’t understand why she wouldn’t want to do whatever they think she should.

“No.”

“Why does she want you to?”

She shrugs. “Because of who my mom is…and because she thinks I’m good.”

“Why don’t you want to?”

It takes her a minute, but then she says, “The same reasons.”

This time it’s her who reaches towards me. Virginia threads her fingers through mine and it does something to me, makes me feel like there isn’t anything I can’t do. She’s looking for me to ground her right now.