The Pull of Destiny (13 page)

“It was ranked
second in
U.S.News & World Report’s
annual Neurology and
Neurosurgery rankings of American hospitals,” he told me once we were airborne.

I sipped on my
iced latte, wondering if this night would ever end. It was a two hour flight to
Baltimore and the time was already fast approaching 8.30pm (we had a ‘quick’
pit stop at Daniel for food which turned into a photo-op for dad coz he just
loves the spotlight). By the time we arrived it would be about 10.30pm and I
foresaw another hour or so with the doctors. Was the guy trying to kill me with
exhaustion? Didn’t he realize I had school tomorrow? Oh, well, maybe he would
let me stay home from school. Again, I really deserved it. I was co-operating.

“Really?” I
said, just to make small talk. “What was the first hospital?”

And who keeps
such useless facts in their heads, anyway? Bet he probably just Googled it at
the hospital.

“Mayo Clinic,
in Minnesota.”

“Dad, I’m not going
to Minnesota tonight. I don’t care if I die; I’m absolutely not going to
Minnesota.”

“You’ll go
wherever I damn well say you’ll go,” dad growled. I didn’t bother arguing. He’d
probably kick me out of the jet without a parachute.

The only thing
that the doctors at John Hopkins had to add was a warning. “While we aren’t
quite sure what factors cause aneurysms to rupture, studies have shown that
high blood pressure, blood thinners such as aspirin and other prescription
drugs and stimulants can increase the risk of rupturing. Therefore, we would
advise you not to lose your temper.”

Amazing. I
spent two hours in a plane with my dad to hear that?

You can imagine
how tired I was when we finally got home, at a record time of 1.30 am. And dad
wouldn’t hear of me not going to school in the morning.

“You’ve missed
more than enough school already,” he hissed. We were standing in the living
room and I kicked off my shoes, ready to head to bed. “You’re in danger of
getting expelled! No Astor has ever gotten expelled before. You’re going to
school tomorrow, young man.”

Surprised he
noticed that I’m close to getting expelled. And here I was thinking all he
cared about was his iPhone and Blackberry. My bad.

Finally, after
a quick shower, I collapsed into bed but I didn’t get nearly enough sleep.

And now, here I
was, trying to hold on to my sanity while wondering why I hadn’t told my
friends about my aneurysm. I’d had plenty of chances, but I just couldn’t go
through with it. God knows I wanted to talk to someone about it but the more I
thought about it, the more I realized that my friends were jerks. Sure, I was a
jerk too, I own it, but Wendy, Ahmed and Joanna weren’t the people I would
entrust my secret with. Wendy and her big mouth would spread it all over The
Upper East Side; Ahmed would make stupid jokes about it but steer clear of me
like I was contagious; Joanna would treat me like I was going to die that very
minute. Because we were all severely limited when it came to personal
tragedies. When Shane died, I remember how everyone treated me, giving me a
wide berth as though they thought that I would collapse in tears the instant
they talked to me. None of them knew what to say. And when they did talk to me,
they sounded so patronizing that it drove me crazy. I didn’t want that
happening again, which meant I couldn’t tell them.

‘Why did you
tell CiCi, then?’ a small voice in my head said as I stared out of the window.
‘You don’t even know her!’

“Because she
was there and I wasn’t thinking straight,” I murmured to myself, causing people
sitting near me to look at me.

But even as I
said that, I knew it was a lie. Why had I told CiCi, and so willingly?

Because she
looked like she would understand more than my friends. Because she wasn’t as
pampered and as spoilt as we were. Because, after I told her, she didn’t look
at me like I was some dying patient. She didn’t look at me with pity in her
eyes. Instead she offered me a shoulder to cry on, and I had laughed at her.

I wasn’t
laughing now. I needed a shoulder to cry on, which was why I approached Robyn
in the canteen at lunch time to ask her where CiCi was. I hoped her offer was
still valid, because if there was ever a time in my life when I needed to talk
to someone who understood, it was now.

“Hey, Robyn,” I
said casually slipping into the seat next to her. Shazia wasn’t around and I
was grateful. I didn’t relish getting into it with her today. Robyn smiled at
me.

“Hi, Luke,” she
said brightly, then did a double take. “Wow. You look awful. Are you sick?”

I grinned
involuntarily. She had no idea. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Look, do you
know where CiCi is?”

Robyn scrunched
up her cute nose, looking puzzled. “CiCi? You mean Celsi?”

I nodded.
“Yeah. Celsi.”

CiCi sounded
better, in my opinion.

“She told me
you apologized, but she didn’t tell me you gave her a pet name!” Robyn looked
highly interested, leaning in closer to me and putting her hand on my arm.
“What do you want with her?” she breathed.

I shrugged
casually. “I just want to talk to her,” I said vaguely. Robyn rolled her eyes.

“Luke, I know
you. You’re not interested in a girl unless you view her as a challenge. This
is the second time this week you’ve asked where Celsi is. What’s the deal?”

“No deal. I
just wanna talk to her.”

“She’s in the
music studio again, probably,” Robyn said, popping open her can of Diet Pepsi.
I started to get to my feet, ready to leave, and she pulled me down by my
sleeve. “I swear, if you do anything to hurt her, Shazia and I are gonna hunt
you down and when we’re done with you...”

She let her
voice trail off as she glared at me. On anyone else it might have been
intimidating, but coming from a girl who smelt of roses and looked more
innocent than an angel, it didn’t quite work.

And
why
was she threatening me? It wasn’t like I wanted to date CiCi! Just- talk to
her. I kinda enjoyed talking to her. She made me laugh and God knows I needed
that.

“Robyn,” I
started, prying her fingers from my t-shirt.

She shook a
finger in my face and I leaned back, sure that she wanted to poke out my eye.

“Because you
have no idea what Celsi goes through. I don’t want you hurting that girl, she’s
got enough problems already at home. You know, with her cousin and the money
and-.” She cut herself off in mid-sentence, clapping a hand to her mouth as I
stared at her, my interest piqued. “God, please don’t tell her I said that.”

“What do you
mean, her cousin and-,” I started, curious.

She shook her
head, her blonde hair flying. “I’ve said too much. Don’t ask her about it.
Please?” She gave me a beseeching look and I sighed.

“Okay, I
won’t,” I said finally. “But- do you have any headache meds?”

Call it random,
but I suddenly remembered that Robyn had insanely bad migraines. Once, when we
were at one of those awfully boring social gala’s I was forced to attend with
my family (come to think of it, one was coming up. Dammit) she had collapsed in
the middle of dinner, screaming that her head was about to explode. If anyone
had medicine, it would be her.

Sure enough,
she felt about in her huge pink bag and brought out a vial of medicine. “Do you
have headaches?” she asked me, handing me two small capsules.

I nodded. “Bad
headaches.”

“Triptan. You
should ask your doctor to prescribe this to you. It works really well.” Robyn
frowned at me. “But you look really pale, Luke. Are you sure it’s just a
headache?”

“Yeah,” I lied.
I smiled at her, getting to my feet again as I gritted my teeth against the
wave of pain and nausea that rushed through me. “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

“Don’t tell
Celsi I told you what I said!” she shouted after me as I walked out of the
canteen.

I made a
beeline for the music studio and walked into ‘CiCi’s’ cubicle. It was empty.

“Damn,” I
muttered, wondering what to do now. Go get some water and drink the pills Robyn
gave me? Call my driver and have him pick me up? I sat down at the piano stool
to decide, just as the door opened and CiCi stepped in. She stopped in her
tracks, staring at me with her mouth open in such a priceless manner that I
would have laughed if I hadn’t felt so lousy.

“This is
seriously getting creepy,” she said slowly.

CHAPTER 7

that’s what
friends are for.

Celsi’s
Point of View

“This is
getting seriously creepy.”

My hand froze
on the door handle as I eyeballed Luke, who was sitting casually at the piano
like he had every right in the world to be there.

He has the
same right you do.

Okay, maybe
that was true. But the impractical part of me insisted that our random and
peculiar meetings were all to do with fate. And even though I knew it was
crazy, I was tempted to agree. There was no earthly reason why Luke and I kept
running into each other, yet here we were. Alone in the same room. Again.
Counting furiously in my head, I came to the conclusion that this was the
fourth time this week!
Pretty amazing for two people who don’t move in the
same social circles, huh? Now what were you saying about fate?
Was destiny
trying to give me a message? If so, what the hell was the message? I had no
clue.

I closed my
mouth (which had been gaping open for so long that I was sure a couple of flies
had flew in there) just as Luke grinned cheerfully at me and said, “Hey,
CiCi! I’m glad I ran into you.”

Okay, so he’s here for
you. Or something.
At
any rate, I could cross fate off the list.

“You call this running
into me?” I asked boldly, putting a hand on my hip and cocking my head to one
side.

He obviously knew that
I was going to be here.

Luke closed his eyes,
managing to somehow look even more gorgeous, which I thought was slightly
unfair. What gave him the right to look so attractive? “Well, if you prefer me
to run into you literally, I can do that,” he mumbled, barely moving his lips.
His
amazingly lovely lips.
I gave myself a mental slap. I needed to stop ogling
over this boy and send him packing before I threw myself onto him. He shrugged.
“But- I’d rather not.”

I bit the inside of my
cheek, still staring at him, my hand still on the door handle. “Oh. That’s
okay,” I heard myself saying. What was I supposed to reply to that odd little
statement? Luke Astor may be one of the cutest guys at our school, but he was
acting weirder every time we met. “So... why were you hoping to run into me?”

Luke opened one eye and
focused on me, hiding a long yawn behind one hand. “I look like a stalker right
now, don’t I?” he asked, electing to answer my question with a question of his
own.

“Um, kinda.”

“Actually, I think we’re
even.” He opened his other eye and lazily stretched his arms over his head. I
raised an eyebrow quizzically.

“Even?” I repeated, not
caring that I ran the risk of sounding like a parrot. If we were playing some
sort of game, why hadn’t he notified me?

“Yeah, even,” Luke said
patiently. “Coz even though this is the second time I’ve come to this part of
the school looking for you, let’s not forget that you came to the penthouse and
you walked into my hospital room. 2-2, we’re even.”

“What?” I exclaimed, my
eyes widening. Was he trying to diminish his stalkerish vibe by labelling
me
a stalker too? Oh, no way! “I had valid reasons for being there each time! I
brought you your homework at the penthouse and I told you, I was picking up
a-.”

Belatedly I realised that
I was in danger of sounding like one of the kids I took care of at the daycare
and I shut my mouth like a trap. Guys didn’t like whining girls, did they? Why
didn’t I pay more attention when Robyn was schooling me on how to attract guys?
Wait, slow down there, Celsi. You do not want to attract Luke. Do you?

Luckily, before I could
further pursue this new and disturbing line of thought, Luke spoke.

“Anyway, I’m not stalking
you.”

I snorted derisively.
Someone up there must really hate me, because I couldn’t help myself. And I
couldn’t stop myself from talking, either. “A likely story.”

I need a mental filter.

“Okay, maybe
just a little.”
Success! He admits it!
Luke grinned, shrugging his
shoulders in his blue Rolling Stones t-shirt. I wondered how many band t-shirts
he owned. I also wondered whether rain outside was getting missed by him.
He’s
driven to school, stupid.
Oh, yeah. Still, overload of band t-shirts or
not, he looked infinitely edible, as usual. “I thought to myself, why should I
be the only person being stalked? Let’s see if CiCi likes it, then I can be her
own personal fan boy.”

I scratched my
chin.
Luke Astor as my own personal fan boy
. That was almost too hot to
contemplate, yet my mind wanted to do nothing else. Was he
trying
to get
himself jumped?

“I’d rather you
were,” I said hurriedly, hoping that what I was thinking wasn’t showing on my
face, because if it was, I might as well just pack it in.
Game over
. But
Luke was just looking at me with an interested expression on his face. Hey, at
least he wasn’t laughing at me. “The only person being stalked, I mean. No
offence, but it’s creepy how you knew where I would be.” A thought popped into
my head and I gazed at him. “Hold on. How did you know where I would be?”

He blushed
slightly, tugging on his earlobe and avoiding my eyes. “I asked Robyn.”

Okay, so he was
definitely entering ‘creepy’ territory. Still, anyone would be lucky to have a
stalker that looked like Luke, creepy or not.

I gave a silly
laugh. “You’re not a very good stalker then,” I pointed out. “A good stalker
knows where its prey is at all times.”

“You sound like
you’ve done it a lot.”
Double entendre, right there.
As if realizing how
that sounded, Luke chuckled. “I mean, stalked people.”

I shook my
head. “I read a lot of books,” I admitted.

“Uh huh.” Still
grinning, Luke gave me a highly amused look, as though he knew that I was
lying, but he was just going to humor me. I bristled. This ‘thing’ needed to
stop.

I stepped
further into the room, suddenly realizing how small it was. And how private.
And how my thoughts kept going from bad to worse. “So, okay, you’re here. I’m
here. What did you want with me?” I asked curiously.

“Well, I guess
I came to take you up on your offer,” Luke said after a beat.

I drew a blank
for a long second.
What offer?
For the life of me, I couldn’t remember.
And I knew my temporary loss of memory had something to do with Luke, damn him.
All he was doing was sitting on the piano bench, oblivious about how he was
making butterflies soar in my stomach.
Why the hell did I have butterflies
in my stomach?

As I was
opening my mouth to ask, “What offer?” I suddenly remembered.
That offer
.
Was he serious? Or was he just here to laugh at me again?

“You know, you
offered me a shoulder to cry on,” he reminded me. “I’m here to collect.”

I narrowed my
eyes. “You laughed at me when I said that!”

He eyed me
through his disheveled hair. “I’m not laughing now,” he said simply.

I bit my lip.
He was right. He wasn’t laughing. In fact, in spite of the jokes he had a
rather down look on his face.

Taking a deep
breath and cursing my compassion, I went to sit next to him. He shot me a
lopsided grin and I spared him a closer look.

“Are you
feeling okay?” I asked hesitantly.

Well, of course
he wasn’t feeling okay; what with the news he received yesterday! Up close, I
saw that he had dark circles under his eyes and was pale under his tan.

He looked at
me, leaning back against the piano. “You have really nice eyes,” he whispered.

My heart did a
somersault. “Thanks,” I whispered back, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.
OMG,
he’s flirting with you.
He’s just being nice, mind!
But I can dream,
can’t I?

“And in answer
to your question, I feel like crap.” He gave me an endearing sideways glance.
“I probably look like crap too, huh? Admit it.”

“You’ve looked
better,” I confessed.

He winced as he
shifted to look at me better.

“Is it a
headache?” I blurted out. “I was reading up on aneurysm’s last night and-.”

Ugh. Crap.

Luke grinned.
“Because of me? Aw, I’m flattered!”

He actually
looked quite pleased at the revelation that I had been reading up on his
symptoms, not realizing how stupid I felt revealing it. I hated to burst his
bubble, but Celsi Sawyer had to save face. Sure, the only reason I’d been
looking up aneurysms and their symptoms was because Luke had one, but the less
he knew about that, the better.
Then maybe you should learn to keep your
mouth shut
. Good idea.