by Sarah Doren
Destined
New Zealand Bound Series, Volume 1
Sarah Doren
Published by Sarah Doren, 2015.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
DESTINED
First edition. October 22, 2015.
Copyright © 2015 Sarah Doren.
ISBN: 978-1519973832
Written by Sarah Doren.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Proloque
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Proloque
If anyone had told me to travel, or even explore things in my hometown, I had never seen before, I probably would have laughed. Hard enough that I might have broken a rib, causing enough damage to send me to an early grave.
A cold gust of wind blew past me, tousling my neat ponytail. I grabbed a thick strand of my blonde mane, tucking it behind my ear. Walking along the empty corridors, I listened to the soles of my shoes thumping loudly against the floor. Although it was early spring, I was surprised to feel a slight chill in my bones. I picked up my pace, as my fingers found my pockets and burrowed inside. I pushed through the double door, and looked back to study my university building.
I took in the familiar old walls. The little statues standing atop the nearly castle-looking building, its brown walls faded from its history. I studied the massive windows distributed around the fortress, their glass thick, and their light exposing a group of my college peers. I turned around and continued walking. The bright sunlight shone down on me. The sound of birds chirping in the trees filled in my ears. I smelled the familiar scent of fresh air, its invisible hands teasing my nostrils. I breathed in the rain-scented aroma and took in the lively green trees. This had always been my favorite time of the year - spring. It brought gentleness, Easter egg hunts for the kids, and deep laughter from the adults. Not to mention the smells of baked goods, which I loved.
My feet brought me into the library on their own accord, almost as though they had a mind of their own. I pushed through the double doors, and I was greeted by a blast of warm, humid air. I fought the urge to gag brought on by the familiar scent of perspiration. I quickly scrambled toward the notice board, trying not to choke from the bad odor. The downside of this college was the poor cleaning standards. The janitors around the building clearly did not do their job well.
My eyes scanned the entire width of the brown board, taking in any interesting articles or stories I might find amusing. My best friend of two years, Jean-Claude, was always making fun of me for looking at the notices all the time. He would say something about me spending my time reading about people’s lives, yet never finding the time to explore my own wants in life.
And just for the record, I do date. But just once in a while. I was never a big fan of going on blind dates, when my friends would set me up. Not since Rob and I broke up a few months ago. The problem with some men is that they’re lousy jerks and lying, cheating bastards who can’t keep their small dicks in their pants. Take my ex-boyfriend for example. He was an alcoholic, cheating dog who suffered from depression and constantly lied to me.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a man-hater. I am merely stating a fact. As it says in some celebrity photos posted in social media, don’t be a hater.
My green eyes found an advertisement about an overseas student exchange program. I had never traveled around the world, nor was I ever an exchange student in some weird, exotic country. It would have been lovely to see more than my hometown of Munich, South Germany.
I quickly read through it and discovered that the school was hosting a student exchange program in New Zealand. A particular college there—The University of New Zealand—was offering a great opportunity for European students to attend their university. A thrill shot down my spine. The idea of studying across the world, where nobody knew me and didn’t know a single thing about me, struck me as wonderful.
I grabbed the piece of paper and walked farther inside the library. I paid the librarian a dime before receiving the key to photocopy the notice, and I could feel excitement wash over me, as I waited for the paper to come out. Once that was done, I left the library, and started reading through it outside, highlighting the main aspects of being an exchange student. I was on my final year in college, studying for a degree in Health Sciences, and the thought of finishing my last couple of months in another country seemed somewhat scary to me.
Later that night, I surfed the net and googled New Zealand. My research brought me images of green lands, blue oceans, and beautiful scenery. I was so mesmerized with what I was seeing that I missed going to the dining hall for dinner. I didn’t care. I was too engrossed in how New Zealand might look. I felt a pang of sadness. Reading about this country brought back a deep heartache for me.
I reached for my iPhone and pressed down on the middle button. A photo flashed on the screen, a picture of myself and an older woman standing beside me. Her light green eyes were so like mine that people have mistaken us for twins. I stared down at my mom’s big smile, touching that grin on her face.
I glanced at the space on my left side. There should have been a father figure next to us, but instead, cold air brushed against my shoulder. I had never known my dad. The only thing I knew of him, no, had heard of him, was that he was New Zealander. Tan skin, brown eyes and a bright smile. These were the only memories left, whenever I thought of him. I knew that if I decided to go to his homeland, my mom would be surprised and a little overwhelmed about my decision.
Nevertheless, I had already made up my mind.
Chapter One
Heels clanked against the floor. Briefcases flashed before my eyes.
The loud sounds of crying, and cheerful shouting from the people around felt overwhelming. A stack of green plastic chairs met my gaze as I looked around. The smell of Clorox and industrial detergent filled in my nose. I was trying not to puke from the sheer enormity of what I was about to do. I was going to New Zealand. I had done a lot of research about the country. The lifestyle, the culture, and the people. I was ready to go. I had nothing to lose, as my hometown held few options for me. I had no job, no significant other to leave behind, and the only thing that worried me was not seeing my mom.
“Call me when you land, okay?” My mom said.
I nodded. “Sure, mom. Don’t worry. This is just me going to college, but in a different school and country.”
She wiped a tear that was trailing down her cheek. “I know, love. But promise me, you’ll call, okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
She pulled me into a tight hug. Her arms held my body tightly, as if not wanting to let go. I returned the embrace, my eyes stinging with tears. I didn’t want to let her know that I was scared. That I had second thoughts about going, although I knew I needed to do this. Needed to get a feel for the homeland of my unknown father.
We let go of each other, and I turned to go. Wiping the tears leaking from my eyes, I crossed the boarding lane. Just before I stepped inside, I looked back and waved at my mom one last time, knowing that I was going to miss her and that I wouldn’t see her for more than a year. I dragged my luggage behind me and adjusted my backpack straps on my shoulders, feeling the heavy weight of it as I strolled toward the luggage check-in, where I heaved my belongings onto the platform.
For the next few minutes, I went through the process of checking in and showing my passport and ticket to the lady standing before me. I was ushered inside and walked down the hall toward the plane, my fingers trembling around my leather handbag. It was hard to believe that in just a few steps, I would
be walking across the bridge to the plane to start my new life in New Zealand. I may be there for just a short while, but I was both scared and excited to finally see the beautiful places it held.
I climbed aboard, followed the flight attendant’s instructions and took my seat. I stuffed my bag into the compartment above me, and taking my place once again, I took my iPod out. I held it to my lap, waiting patiently as the rest of the flight attendants went to work, showing us safety instructions and whatnot. With my headphones on, I leaned my head back against the headrest and let the quietness fill me. A contemporary song came on, and I jammed along with it, tapping my thigh with my finger in a silent drum.
In 23 hours and 23 minutes, the plane would arrive in the Auckland Airport. I would be walking out of the terminal, ready to meet my host family. When I had inquired with the university, they had told me about a small family who was willing to take in a new temporary family member. As thrilling as it sounded, I was still slightly nervous to meet them. I didn’t know if the kids would like me, or if they would even bother to show up at the airport to meet me.
As far as I could tell from the picture I was given, my new family would all be boys. The dad, with whom I had spoken many times before even buying my ticket, had been so wonderful and nice to me that I looked forward to meeting them. Although, his kids looked lively and nice enough, I was still worried. I shook the thought out of my head, deciding to worry about it later.
I tried to focus on Rihanna’s song Umbrella, but I had lost my concentration. I was too distracted and I couldn’t just sit there twiddling my thumbs. I was going to be in this plane for almost 24 hours for goodness’ sake and I didn’t know what to do. I took my headphones from my ears and tapped my foot restlessly, not knowing what to do. The safety instructions peeked out from the seat in front of me, its tiny inaudible voice calling out to me to grab the card. I gave in to the urge and scanned the information. I was telling myself to relax and think of something to do, when an unfamiliar voice spoke.
“You feeling alright?” a female voice asked.
I turned around and noticed an elder woman looking at me with worried eyes.
I nodded. “Uh, yeah. Fine. I’m fine.”
Her lips formed a smile. “First time flying?”
I swallowed, realizing my mouth felt dry. “Uh, yeah. I don’t really know much about planes and how it works, you know. So in case there’s an emergency, I’ve got this to help me out.” I gestured toward the safety card.
It seemed she didn’t get the joke, because her smile dropped and she suddenly turned away from me. I cursed my big mouth and turned to face forward. I forced my lips closed in a tight line, fighting the urge to speak again, in case the woman might get offended. I grabbed a magazine from the pile and flicked through the pages, spending the rest of my time looking at pictures of New Zealand and its beaches.
***
I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep until I heard the loud sound of a female voice echoing around the small compartment. I blinked through the haziness inside my head and shook off the confusion, wondering where I was. I looked around and took in the unfamiliar faces of people around me, remembering only that I wasn’t back in my old room in Germany. I sat up from my slumped posture and wiped my face with my palms, trying to shake off the grogginess. I asked for a glass of water and stared out the window, taking in the misty clouds surrounding the wing of the plane.
I looked down and nearly gasped in surprise. Below us, I could see a large expanse of green land and blue ocean. It must not be possible for my eyes to bulge out of their sockets, or they surely would have done so at the beautiful sight of this country. I placed my hands on the windowpane, never taking my eyes off the gorgeous view. I wondered what the people were like here, but based on the friendliness of my host dad, I was sure this was going to be an amazing experience.
The plane landed in short order. I was so focused on looking at the natural environment and its eco-friendliness that I hadn’t realized we were about to get off. I grabbed my stuff from the overhead bin and made my way outside, taking in the warm blast of wind that rustled my hair. I found my land legs, and we were ushered inside the airport. I couldn’t stop looking around and taking in the different cultures and odd-looking swirled symbols that remained a mystery to me.
I walked out of Arrivals and noticed a doorframe filled with exotic looking creatures, presumably Maori gods that was etched and carved into the wooden. Their eyes were huge and circular, their tongues poking out. To some people, they would have looked slightly scary and weird, but to me, they were a one of a kind symbol of New Zealanders.
Through my research, I learned what some of them were called. New Zealanders, also known as ‘Kiwis’ were known to be friendly, warm and welcoming and accepted different varieties of people from different culture backgrounds and countries.
Eagerness and delight rolled over me as my feet trudged along the narrow hallway, my hand clutching tightly the brochure containing so much useful information about the country I would live in for the next year and so. My heart leapt at the sight of a group of people wearing what looked like cloaks, capes and other adornments that made them appear to me to be Maoris. The cluster broke out into song, their voices strong and deep as they waved their hands in welcome. A large woman stepped forward, her hands outstretched and holding what looked like a branch of leaves. Her lips were inked with black lipstick, her chin covered with intricate designs that fascinated me.
The powhiri went on for half-hour before we continued through the Arrivals entry. Pushing my things along, my fingers curled taut around the trolley that carried my luggage, I looked around, trying to see a familiar face from my host family.
“Tina!” A voice called.
My head shot in the direction of the voice, my eyes scanning the dense crowd, as a man, who seemed to be in his forties, waved in my direction to get my attention. My eyes lit up at the familiar face of my host dad. I pushed in his direction and noticed two younger boys holding up a sign that said, Welcome Tina! Kia ora!
I studied the boys’ facial features. Their dark brown hair looked shaggy and rumpled, as if someone had messed it up. From where I stood, I could see a resemblance between the two young men, who seemed less enthusiastic than I had hoped, when they laid eyes on me.
“Hey!” I said the moment I reached them. “I’m Tina.”
My host dad pulled me in for a big hug. “Hi, I’m Anthony. It’s nice to finally meet you after all those e-mails and all that skyping. I hope you’ll enjoy visiting New Zealand as much as we enjoy living here.”
“Thank you.” I said, grinning like an idiot.
I turned to my host siblings and stuck my hand out in greeting. “Hi, I’m Tina. You must be Jayden and Isaac.”
They both nodded. Neither one of them offered to introduce themselves nor tell me who was who, but I didn’t mind their quietness.
Anthony spoke before I could say anything else. “Sorry Tina. They’re a bit shy. It’s been a long time, since they’ve really had a female in the house. As you can see, their mom isn’t here with us.”
His confession piqued my curiosity, and stupid and naïve that I was, I asked the most harebrained question on the planet.
“Where is she?”
“In heaven,” one little boy piped up.
I stared down at him and noted the grimness of his face. Anthony’s older son had his jaw clenched, eyes downward and avoided any eye contact. I immediately felt bad for asking. For the second time today, I cursed under my breath, damning myself for having such a big mouth.
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” I said softly.
My host dad waved off my apology, as if it was no big deal.
“Oh, don’t worry about it too much dear. She died a long time ago, while she was giving birth to Isaac. It’s tragic that he never got to know her.”
I could hear a tinge of sadness in his voice. However, it soon faded when he offered to take my bags, and as embarrassing
as it was, I let him take them.
“You’ve got an accent. Where are you from?” Isaac—the youngest of the family—asked.
I smiled at his innocence. He must be seven or eight years old, judging by his height and voice.
“I’m from Germany,” I said. “And I do have an accent. I went to an international school when I was growing up. It wasn’t until I had to go to college I changed teachers and classmates. I grew up speaking English too, just as you did. But the difference is that I’m bilingual.”
Isaac giggled as if I had told him a joke.
“You said college. We don’t say college here, do we, dad?”
Anthony shook his head. “You’re right Isaac. We don’t.”
The he turned to me and said, “In New Zealand, we say university. But no worries. You’ll soon figure out how we say things and how we talk. For now, you must be exhausted and jet-lagged.”
I nodded and noticed that Jayden had remained quiet throughout the whole conversation. I didn’t want to push him, so I chose not to comment on his silence. After a few minutes, noticed a small hand in mine, tugging me forward.
“Come on, Tina!” Isaac said.
I felt my heart melt, right then and there.
Chapter Two
For the next little while, I was entertained by an eight-year-old boy, who happened to have a passionate interest in traffic jams and select locations in Auckland. The loud sounds of vehicles honking and blaring music filled my ears. I looked out the window, my eyes devouring the sights of skyscrapers and New Zealand’s famous tower, the Sky Tower. According to my host family, people went there to see the whole city from the top. Or, alternatively, bungee jumping from the top of the tower.
The thought of the excitement and thrill of that almost left me high. Bungee jumping was one of the things I wanted to do during my stay here in New Zealand, along with windsurfing. My ears perked up at the sound of my name.