DESTINY
Rachael Glass
Destiny
Copyright © 2019 Rachael Glass
All rights reserved.
Destiny is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to events, locations, or persons living or dead is coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying form without written permission of the author, Rachael Glass.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Author’s Note
CHAPTER ONE
DESTINY
The loud sound bounced off the walls and Destiny gritted her teeth in anger. The sound was coming from the living room and it was moments like these that Destiny found herself being envious of people with soundproof walls. She shut her eyes and exhaled, hoping by some miracle that the song would go off. It was morning and it was no puzzle that she wasn’t going to get the work she had planned to do done. She stared at the book in front of her, tapping the lead of her pencil on the table. Why someone thought that by increasing the volume of a song until ears bled, increased the importance of the song, she’d never know. She looked at the alarm clock that rested on the stool next to her bed and noticed it read 06:35 on its broken screen. Destiny sighed. There was no need forcing herself to study in this noisy environment since school started in a few minutes.
She stood up carefully from what was left of her reading chair: It was a wooden chair with three good legs and a broken one. The broken one was supported with a cement block. Almost everything in her room was broken somewhere. Her bed frame was almost falling apart, and her clothes were pouring out of the bag she had them in. It wasn’t because they were too much, it was because the bag had torn in almost every nook and Destiny was tired of seeing them back up. Her windowpane was one of the few things that was intact.
Destiny retrieved her only pair of sneakers from beneath the bed. They looked worn out and as she sat on the bed to lace them up, she could swear she heard them protest. They needed to be disposed of but Destiny didn’t have much to go by. They’d just have to stick with her. The top of the sneakers looked scruffy and she knew they didn’t have a long time to be useful. She’d have to be forced to give them up. She grabbed her thick, wooly, kinky hair and shoved them into a bun, using a scrunchie to ensure they stayed put.
She grabbed her backpack and headed out the door, walking on her tiptoes. She ignored her snoring mother, who normally snored with her mouth open. She peeked outside the door before she stepped out. When she saw him standing and flirting with the girl who lived across the hall from them, she gulped. They were standing next to the elevator that was out of order. The elevator had never been in order; it was still in the same state it was when they moved into their building.
Glad that they weren’t in her way, Destiny headed out the building that was falling apart. She prayed silently that he wouldn’t see her while expecting him to call her name. Writings and graffiti covered the walls of the building, and Destiny guessed they lived there because it was cheap. The stairwell was just around the corner and the second she made the turn, she hurried down the stairs, grateful she hadn’t been noticed.
The streets were as noisy as the dark building she had left behind. All around, people yelled what could be said in low voices, and argued like their lives depended on it. She shoved her hands in her pockets and headed down the streets, her eyes never leaving the ground. The last thing she needed was to lock eyes with someone she wasn’t supposed to. The people in this neighborhood took everything as a challenge. Something as little as an accidental eye lock could be viewed as something more. She’d lived in the neighborhood long enough to know that wandering eyes were the best recipe for disaster. Want to stay safe and more importantly, alive, keep your eyes to yourself.
People were rushing all around her. Cars hooted their horns and shops were opening for the day. The smell of coffee reached her nose and she inhaled greedily. She didn’t have any money on her, and even if she did, coffee seemed to be a luxury to her. The aroma of it was more than enough for her. She passed a group of giggling girls, boys who called out to her and laughed loudly. As she rounded the corner, Destiny reached for the emerald that hung from the gold chain round her neck. She fumbled with it out of habit. The bus came as soon as she got to the bus stop. Talk about luck.
It was a moment of silence as she stared at her worn out sneakers and back to the bus which held a group of her mates. The loud chatter and laughter from the bus made her think about the contents of her bag. She wasn’t as lucky as she thought, Destiny decided, as she turned and walked down the street. If only her schoolmates were humans rather than demons, she’d have entertained getting on.
Destiny thought of the benefits of walking as she headed down the street. She pulled her iPod from her bag and slipped on her earpiece. It was one of her most prizes possessions and Destiny wouldn’t forget how hard she had worked to buy it. She was thirteen when she bought it, and she babysat her neighbor’s troublesome three kids for an entire summer in order to finally afford it. It was worth it and she was glad to have it. It’s been her companion through most nights: the rainy nights, the wild nights that brought with it screams and cusses, the nights when words of hatred spewed out in the living room, and the nights when violence showed up on the streets. But mostly for long walks to and from school. It was her best friend.
Destiny loved cool and soulful music, which signified something her neighborhood wasn’t. Camila Cabello filled her ears and the tune made her skip down the street. Music was her escape; they told stories that explained exactly how she felt. She minded the busy roads before crossing them. Her neighborhood was behind her and these streets were busier than hers was. The satisfaction she felt was quelled by two shiny convertibles. They blew their horns at her, but only one slowed down and drove in sync with her steps.
“Woo hoo! Hey you, Rags! Here, throw it in the trash!” one of the guys in the car called out to her, and he threw a cup of half-finished slushie at her.
It was already too late when Destiny noticed it, so her efforts to dodge the cup was futile. Blue liquid splashed on her polo shirt and it wasn’t in the way paint did when an artist knocked it over. How great. This was messy, too messy and unattractive. Laughter rang from the car as she stared down at her shirt with a mixture of anger and frustration. They sped off leaving her to continue staring down at her shirt and pushing back tears. She blinked hard and fast, willing the tears not to fall. A hand rested on her shoulders and when she turned, Ms. Josie offered her a sad smile.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
Destiny shook her head and her curls danced in protest. “I appreciate the offer Ms. Josie, but I’m gonna be late. I can’t have that on my record.”
“Don’t worry about that, Pepo will take you to school.”
“Seriously Ms. Josie, I’ve looked much worse. This is nothing.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know. I didn’t see you those times,” the Mexican native said and led the way into her café, ignoring Destiny’s protest.
Destiny followed behind her, trying to convince the lovely woman to let her go, but she wasn’t having it. The café was empt
y when she stepped in. She said a quick hello to Pepo and followed Ms. Josie through the double door at the back. She tried to ignore how being in there made her feel hungrier. In no time at all, Ms. Josie was shoving a sweater into her hand. Destiny looked at the sweater and back to Ms. Josie. The woman couldn’t be serious. The stern look on her old face told Destiny otherwise. Her brown eyes held warmth and Destiny forced herself to look back at the shirt. It was nicer than anything she’d ever wore.
“It’s fine, Ms. Josie. The shirt isn’t beyond redemption. I can’t take this. It’s too much.”
Ms. Josie waved her off. “It’s nothing. You must take them. It looks like it’d fit you. My granddaughter left them during the break.”
Destiny shook her head in more protest.
“I’m sure my shirt is fine. A few scrubs would do the trick. Your granddaughter will probably need this later.”
Ms. Josie shook her head. “She has enough. Lucia won’t need it, trust me. It’s just one sweater and weren’t you saying something about being late? Just take the sweater and let Pepo drop you off.”
Destiny sighed in defeat and went into the toilet stall. She took the polo shirt off and wore the red sweater. When she returned, Ms. Josie clapped in delight and almost squealed. Destiny felt hot all over.
“It fits really well. Don’t just stand there, check yourself out in the mirror.”
Even if she didn’t look good, she felt good. The sweater had to be nicest thing she’d ever worn. Standing in front of the body length mirror, Destiny had to agree with Ms. Josie, she really did look good.
“Thanks Ms. Josie. The sweater’s really pretty and soft. I appreciate it.”
“In my opinion, the one wearing the sweater is prettier. You can keep it.”
She started to protest but Ms. Josie was already leading her into the café. “Pepo’s already waiting out front.”
Destiny said more thanks and at the end, Ms. Josie had to lead her out the door. Pepo, Ms. Josie’s brother, was already in a grey truck. He grinned as she got in.
“Fits you well,” he commented.
Destiny looked down at her lap and mumbled her thanks.
Pepo laughed and drove into the road. The ride to school was filled with slow Spanish songs and Destiny found herself appreciating the melody. In no time, Pepo pulled over in front of the school and she alighted from the vehicle. She had ten minutes to spare. She said her thanks and Pepo waved her goodbye before driving off. Destiny ran into the school, her feet stomping on the lush green courtyard. Walking will take up more time.
Havana Academy was as respectable as it was scary. Her schoolmates picked being demons over being angels, and she was the poor human tormented for just existing. In front of the building that was really wide and high, her schoolmates stood, taking up space on the quad. On the stairs leading to the school’s front door, her classmates stood and her insides twisted. She made it to school hallways without being bothered, but the small relief she was feeling disappeared when she came crashing down and it wasn’t in a graceful way.
Laughter boomed all around her and Destiny winced from the pain that shot through her. Someone had tripped her with their feet. Her knees ached really bad; falling face flat would have been better, Destiny thought. All around her, amidst their laughs, everyone called her Rags. She looked down at the red sweater and was pleased to see it wasn’t damaged.
“I see you got yourself another rag to wear,” a voice came above her.
Destiny knew it had to one of the boys from earlier. She said nothing, got into a sitting position and looked at her knee. True to her thoughts, the boy, a lanky fellow with brown hair, laughed louder but didn’t touch her anymore. If they think they’ve hurt you in some way, their comeback was less likely to happen. Slowly, she stood up from the floor and limped down the hall, trying her hardest to ignore the roar of laughter.
Her first stop was her locker. The lockers were arranged in rows painted a dark shade of blue which complimented the blue on the walls. She dropped off her bag and picked up the books she needed. Her next stop was the restroom. She had five minutes to spare. The walls of the restroom had scribblings. Once, Destiny had read them and they were a mixture of love confessions, nastiness and straight up diss talk. If only those who wrote them were brave enough to actually say the words to whom they were meant for, the white walls would be a real sight. She turned on the faucet to get water. Worst things would have happened if she had worn skirt, Destiny told herself. She used the water to wipe her knees. There were worse situations to be in and this wasn’t the worse of them. She could really do much worse.
She lifted the trouser to reveal her left knee bleeding a little. The wound wasn’t that big, but somehow it stung when she washed it with water. Destiny bit on her lower lip in response to the pain. Once the wound was cleaned up, she rolled the trouser back down and grabbed her items. Destiny hurried down the hall with just one minute before her first class began. She made it before her room teacher did, and she tried to convince herself that the whispers had nothing to do with her. As she sat down, a small scream escaped her as her butt connected with the floor and laughter filled the air. Her cheeks flamed as she got up. Her classmates were really creative; they did the classic chair removal to her. She looked around, found her chair, placed it in its rightful position and sat down.
Her room teacher walked in and took the roll call. Then she was free to hurry to her next class. Science was her next class and the science teacher, Mr. Robbs, was already waiting. Everyone piled in and took their seat.
Mr. Robbs was a man of average height. He was going bald at the corners of his head and wore spectacles that rested on the bridge of his nose. His button up shirt was tucked into black trousers that was supported with a belt. He wore brown shoes and he looked at them in an all-knowing manner and Destiny knew why. He cleared his throat in a bid to command silence, but none of Destiny’s classmates listened. Mr. Robbs turned and walked to the board and wrote two words that prompted the class to murmur in disagreement.
“I believe it’s time to begin our pop quiz,” Mr. Robbs said with a smile. The question paper was in his hand and he went around giving a paper to each student. The second she got hers, Destiny got to work. As she ticked off answers, she realized that it didn’t matter how much time her mates were given, some would never be prepared. The quiz was announced last week Monday and they were given an entire week to prepare. Still yet, some had the nerve to act surprised. It certainly was none of her business if they didn’t study.
A smile appeared on Destiny’s lips as she worked through the questions.
The bell rang and Mr. Robbs clapped his hands and announced their time was up. He moved around the class, retrieving the papers. Sometimes, some students would try to hang on to their papers for longer in an attempt to answer one more question but Mr. Robbs wasn’t having that. Once he had rounded up all the papers, he placed them on his desk and clapped his hands once. It was obvious from the smile on his face that he was happy. Most teachers were after they had given a quiz.
“I don’t need to remind you that this test makes up twenty-five percent of your grades. Enjoy your day.”
“Like twenty-five percent is all that,” someone said from behind her.
“Right. Does he really think we’ll fail because of twenty-five percent?”
“I swear the questions were so easy, it was silly.”
Destiny rolled her eyes, unable to relate to their nonchalant attitude. It was really dumb of them to not understand how important twenty-five percent was. They were different, she and them. While all they needed was a pass grade, she had to pass with distinction. People walked past her but she remained seated, making sure to avoid anyone shoving her accidentally.
Once the class cleared out, Destiny grabbed her books and headed out the door. Her next class was also next door; it was a double blessing. Less chance of running into jerks.
Just like in science class, there was a test and as the teacher h
anded out the questions, murmurs of complaints followed. It was almost as if it had been programmed to work that way. Announce a test, class murmurs but end up taking the test. Destiny received her paper and with a smile, she went through the problems, providing the necessary answers.
When recess rolled over, Destiny trudged down the hall holding her books to her chest. She walked by the side, doing her best to stay hidden. There was bustling and chatter as people headed to the cafeteria. She found herself following the crowd. Like days before and unlike her peers, she stood in front of the cafeteria, daring herself to go in. But she had, a long time ago, and the experience was nowhere near pleasant. As people walked past her and went into the cafeteria, she shook her head and stood by the side, thinking about it. It was terror zone in there and sincerely, she didn’t feel up to being terrorized.
Destiny walked into the long room. She swallowed hard and strolled to the tables at the end of the room. The long room opened up to the back patio where there was cafeteria furniture as well. She settled her bag next to her and pulled out a bottle of water and an apple from it. She placed the bottle on the table and took a bite, looking around to ensure she wasn’t in view of anyone who was a potential threat to her well-being. If none of them saw her, the chances of having a good lunch time free of snarky remarks were considerably high.
As she caught the trash that was thrown at her, Destiny realized it was too much to hope for.
“Get rid of that for me, Rags.”
Destiny assessed her sweater and was glad none of the rubbish had gotten in it. She sighed and bit into the core of the apple. The dirt would be handled as soon as she was finished eating her apple. She was really hungry and it was the first thing that she was eating that day and it was probably going to be the last.
“Hold up, was that defiance I heard in that sigh?” someone asked snarkily.
When Destiny raised her head, she forced the apple in her mouth to go down. Standing before her was Megan Drew in all her gloriousness. Right behind her were her very own minions and Destiny had no idea how to talk herself out of this one.
Destiny: BWWM High School Romance Page 1