The Weight of Destiny (10 page)

“I can’t,” automatically comes out of my mouth, cutting Jamie off. She sighs. Guilt tumbles through me, but then I remember I really can’t. Ryder is outside waiting for me.

Ryder. The guy with piercings in his lip, who curses like crazy and who can’t possibly understand me. We’re different, much too different. If Mike is perfect for me like Hailey and Jamie think, Ryder is one hundred percent wrong for me. We want different things, and we always will.

But kissing him didn’t feel wrong. Listening to him talk didn’t either.

“Over the weekend,” I blurt out. It’s a way to change the subject and stifle the thoughts in my head. “We should do something on the weekend. Have a sleepover and…I don’t know…”

Loneliness is my heart disease, hardening my arteries and stopping my blood flow. I should know what I want to do. I’m seventeen years old. I shouldn’t feel lost at the thought of going out and having a good time.

“Okay.” Jamie gives me a hug.

“Should we invite Mike and his friends?” Hailey adds.

She hardly gets the words out before I’m shaking my head, though I don’t know why. Because of my plan, or fear, or because of Ryder? There are too many variables. I just know I fear the emptiness inside me as much as I fear my destiny. I don’t know how to change either one.

“I’m going to head out early, okay?” I push to my feet and place my stuff in my backpack. I tell Mr. Wave I need to leave because I have an appointment. It’s only ten minutes early, and like Dad, he trusts me, so he tells me it’s fine.

My head is cluttered, which makes the fear run deeper. Confusing, mixed-up thoughts always weigh me down. They make me feel like Mom, as though I’m not me or I don’t have control. The thoughts make me wonder what Virginia Woolf felt like. If she always felt the heaviness of her life on her shoulders and in her head the way I do. Maybe she always felt so heavy that the rocks in her pocket didn’t make a difference.

It’s sprinkling when I get outside. Ryder’s standing under the cover of the building with his head down, his hands shoved into his pockets. He’s wearing long sleeves and jeans, but no jacket or hoodie again. My heart does this confusing
rap, rap, rap
but I shut it out of my mind. There are already too many thoughts there to decipher.

He glances up as though he heard me, and a smile tugs at his lips. “If it isn’t the future business leader of America. Did you cut out early? I might have to tell on you.”

Shaking my head, I step next to him, ignoring what he said. “You should be wearing a jacket.”

“Aww, you’re worried about me. That’s so sweet.”

I try not to smile, wondering how I can even want to right now. My head is a mess, and I can’t handle messes. “You’re crazy.”

“And you’re perfect, which if you ask me, is pretty, fucking crazy in itself.”

His words are a slap across my face. “Ugh. Whatever. I’m not perfect.”

I only get a step away before Ryder stops me with his body, standing in front of me. He has a wrinkle on his forehead and questions in his multi-colored eyes. “I didn’t mean that as a bad thing.”

There’s a gentleness to his voice I’ve never heard before. Somehow, the edge is still there, but muted. “I know.” And I do, though I don’t know how. “Let’s go.”

Ryder moves out of my way as I turn for my car. He’s walking next to me, and a strange thought adds to the madness in my head: what would Hailey and Jamie think if they saw us together?

Ryder isn’t like Mike.

“Where are we going?” he asks, and I answer with the only thing I can.

“To do homework.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

~Ryder~

Homework definitely isn’t what I expected to be doing with her when I had Shane drop me off. It’s not something I expect to do most of the time.

Virginia’s walking like some creepy guy is behind her while she’s on a quiet street at night, so I don’t say anything until we get to the car. When we get there, I look at her from over the top of it, her eyes catching mine as she opens the door. “I can call Shane to come back and get me if you don’t wanna chill.” Because I’m suddenly wondering if I’m who she’s trying to escape. Yeah, she told me to come here, but I’m not stupid. I realize that at any second she could decide that hanging out with me is too fucked up. That we’re too different. Hell, I might decide the same thing.

“No…I…I wouldn’t have said to come if that’s not what I wanted.”

Those words somehow knock the breath out of me. I’m usually pretty good at understanding how the world works. I get that Luke doesn’t want to be stuck with me. Shit like that happens. I understand that Dad had to leave. Yeah, the things he does are wrong, and no, I shouldn’t do them; but there’s a balance to the world—people like Virginia and Luke who are smart and have plans, and people like me who aren’t all that good. We give people like them something to aspire to be better than, and something to rebel against. Give people like Mr. Miller someone to try and control.

We can’t all be future business leaders of America.

We can’t all be perfect.

Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t know the first way to try.

But with Virginia, I don’t totally get how she works. She shouldn’t be here with me, yet she is. She shouldn’t have been out there on the dock, yet she was. She shouldn’t care if I wear a jacket or do things like give me her number for a ride or bring me my hoodie, but she did.

She’s supposed to assume the worst with me, which I guess really means just seeing me as I am, because I don’t try and hide it.

So right now, what I’m feeling is curiosity.

But then her eyes cast down, her body slumps like her bones aren’t working, and she reminds me of the girl who climbed out on that dock.

“I know this isn’t your idea of a good time,” Virginia says. “If you want to go, go, but I just…I need to clear my head. I need something that has a straightforward answer—question and answer. Homework is so much easier than life.”

Her body stiffens again and she looks at me, all strength, and I realize I’m a liar. It’s not only curiosity that has me here. She’s not just a compulsion, either. I see something in her that’s lost—lost the same way Shane and Drea are. Like Tanner and Cody. Like me. And for the first time in my life, I want to try and lead someone out of it. Not that I wouldn’t change things for my friends if I could, but the rest of us, we sort of belong where we are. We fit. She doesn’t.

“Yeah…yeah, okay, boss. Let’s go.”

Her lips sort of pucker like she didn’t expect what I said, but then she nods and gets into the car. I do the same. We hardly make it out of the parking lot before the rain starts coming down harder, splats of water smearing across her windshield. “Guess this leaves out Ghetto Beach. We could sit in your car, but I might suffocate. I mean, really, a Prius?”

“Hey! It’s not that bad.”

“It’s small. This thing is a fucking deathtrap if you get into an accident.”

“I like it. It makes sense. It’s good for the environment and good on gas.”

Why am I not surprised at how she answered? “We can head somewhere close to my place.”

“No. Too far. My dad’s at work late tonight. We’ll go to my house.”

“Cool.” I hit the button so the seat leans back. I drum my fingers on my thighs as Virginia drives. Her house isn’t too far away from her school. The second we pull up, I realize this was a huge fucking mistake. I should have known her house would be just as ridiculous as her school.

This is the kind of place Dad would eye and see dollar signs. It’s the kind of place I feel the urge to do the same thing.

I never did private homes with him, but I know he took them. My skin gets tight just looking at the huge, white house in front of me. It’s different than going into Tanner’s place, because, rich kid or not—and knowing Tanner probably has more of a future than any of us—it’s still like looking in the mirror when I see him. With her, I know eventually she won’t be lost anymore.

Those words become a noose tied around my neck. Not too tight, just letting me know they’re there. This girl has become kind of a friend. I can’t sit here and think about stealing from her.

“I’m not going in there.” This whole thing, being with her at all, is stupid. I reach for the handle, but Virginia’s hand on my other arm makes me pause.

“You don’t want me in there,” I add when she doesn’t speak.

“Yes, I do. I don’t get it. I don’t know why, and that’s…I don’t work that way, Ryder. I need things to make sense or I feel like I’m losing it. I’m not stupid. I’m not the girl who dreams about her ‘happily ever after’ with a boy. It’s not something I’ve ever wanted. I’m far too practical for that, but…I guess when I’m with you, I can pretend it’s okay to want something different. I’ve never really wanted something like that before.”

It’s crazy how I can make a girl like this want something. And not like the rich girls who show up at our parties sometimes. She doesn’t want to pass the time with me just to say she took a visit to the other side of the tracks, or to piss off her parents.

Or hell, maybe that’s exactly what she wants. But if she’s going to pretend, I can, too, because that’s what we’re doing. She’s destined to be one kind of person, and I’m destined to be another. The kind who looks at a house like this and doesn’t think of the lonely girl inside, unless it’s what he can take from her.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

~Virginia~

Standing in my bedroom, I suddenly feel like I’m on a boat. My stomach is doing this swish thing, like I’m rocking back and forth on waves and might have to stick my head over the edge to vomit at any second.

Dramatic, I know, but it’s true.

I’ve never had a boy in my room before. I’ve definitely never had a boy like Ryder anywhere near my bedroom before.

I watch him as he walks across the carpet. Mocha is the color. I know because I’m the one who picked it out.

His pants are baggy but not
too
big. I can tell that the tip of his underwear probably shows at the top. It’s not something I’ve ever been into. I mean, why not just buy pants that fit, right? But for some reason, I like it on him. Like Ryder doesn’t care about rules the way I do. Like he’s different. Different colors flash in my head and I wonder what type they are. Boxers or briefs? And then I realize I sound like a total perv, the heat of my face telling me it’s probably changing to multiple shades of red.

“You’re blushing,” Ryder says.

“No I’m not.” I’ve become quite the liar lately.

“Okay.” He turns his back to me. Ryder runs his finger along the edge of my bookshelf. “You have a ton of books. You’re like the perfect good girl. You do your homework on time and you read lots of books. My brother is just like that.”

Yes, that’s me. My name is Perfect…
Though it’s really not.

“Is that what you like to do for fun? Read?” Ryder leaves the bookshelf now, but continues to make his way around my room, looking at everything. He touches the jewelry box Mom got me that rests on my dresser. Picks up a magazine that’s open to an article on one of my favorite mathematicians. He stops by the shelf on the wall, studying all of my trophies and awards—FBLA, government, and the one I got for helping teach elementary kids at the youth center about different jobs in business they could have one day.

My eyes dart to the bookshelf and back to Ryder. He’s not looking at me, but I’m suddenly wishing he was. I want to know what he’s thinking when he looks at my things. What it tells him about me, because his question somehow told me something about myself.

I like to read…
And not because I have to do it for school, but because I enjoy it. I tell myself I don’t. I want to believe I don’t, because reading is like a fresh wound for me, one that never heals. It’s tied in with writing and Mom and Grandma and living in imaginary worlds instead of being rooted in reality. “No.” I shake my head. “Books are Mom’s thing, not mine. She just always buys them for me.”

My backpack drops silently to my bed before I unzip it and start pulling my binder and schoolbooks out. “Do you want something to drink? I have Diet Dr. Pepper.”

There’s no reply, but I hear his footsteps on the mocha carpet, heading my way. A warm body stops right behind me, close enough to feel his heat and smell his soapy skin. “Nothing about you makes sense.”

I flinch when fingers touch my hair. My eyes fall closed when he slides a lock behind my ear.

No, no, no, Lulu. Step away. Hanging out is one thing, but don’t fall under his spell.

My eyes jerk open. “You’re awesome at compliments. Every girl wants to be told she doesn’t make sense.”

“See, like that. You don’t give a shit what some random guy says about you. You probably don’t care what anyone says. You’re too level-headed for that, so why do you pretend you do?”

That’s where he’s wrong. I don’t want to care what people say or think, especially a boy—or maybe just this boy—but I do. For the first time in my life I wonder if that’s something all girls care about, whether they want to admit it or not, or if I’m just not the kind of girl I thought I was. Or the kind of girl I want to be, at least when it comes to boys.

“There are pens and pencils at my desk if you need one. I usually do my homework on my bed.” Yes, I’m aware that I changed the subject rather than answering him.
There once was a girl named Fear…

“Rebel.”

“Comedian.”

Using my left foot, I hold my right shoe so I can pull my foot out, and then do the same with the other. After lining them up straight, I climb onto my bed. My lap desk is beside me because I put it on my bed after making it this morning. Things go much easier when you’re prepared.

I set my desk over my lap and my notebook and pen on the desk. Already some of the tension starts to ease out of my body as I finger through my math book.

“Holy shit, this is so strange.” Ryder takes his shoes off, too, and then sits on the bed beside me. He doesn’t straighten his shoes out.