Her Destiny

by Monica Murphy

  Now I wished for those old friends. At least they’re loyal. I wouldn’t even be at this stupid party with people I didn’t know if I’d stayed with them. Vanessa and Valerie. We were silly together. We called ourselves the “V” girls because we all have Vs in our names and we were virgins. Stupid.

  I’m not a virgin anymore. I don’t even belong with the “V” girls.

  I don’t know who I belong with.

  “You’re a liar,” Justice practically snarls, throwing the locket at my face. It bounces off my cheek and I reach up, hold my hand against my face as I bend down and grab the locket from where it landed by my feet. “Get the fuck out of here.”

  I scurry out of the house without another word, not once looking back as the tears stream down my cheeks, the locket still clutched in my hand. I walk blindly down the street and grab my cell phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, hitting speed dial and hoping like crazy Evan answers. It’s late and he’s probably with a girl.

  He’s always with a girl.

  “It’s midnight,” he growls when he answers. I swear I hear a female’s voice in the background. I’m sure I do. My brother has gone hog wild lately.

  So have I so I guess we’re just rebelling against the crap that’s been thrown at us.

  “I need you to come get me,” I say, stopping as I glance around the street. The homes are nice, the neighborhood older. I rode over with Rachel and Tally and I really don’t want to find them and ask them to take me home. I don’t even think they would. They’re too wrapped up in their own stuff and Tally ran as fast as she could when the argument started. I bet she’s mad that I blew her chance with that jerk named Justice.

  Stupid name. Stupid guy. Stupid new friends.

  The heavy sigh that I hear tells me Evan isn’t pleased. That makes two of us. “Where are you?” he grumbles.

  “I’ll text you the address. Plug it into your GPS.” I pause, hating how vulnerable I feel, how vulnerable I sound. “Please, Evan. Hurry.”

  “I’ll get there as soon as I can.” He ends the call before I can say another word and I practically collapse onto the sidewalk, sitting on the edge as I type in the address and text it to Evan.

  This is my life now. It’s done a complete one-eighty from a year ago. Heck, six months ago. I started the summer innocent and hopeful. I yearned for something. A change. A chance. I found both in Nicholas Fairfield. I rebelled against my parents and did what I wanted.

  And what I wanted to do was Nick.

  Then he was taken away from me. I was taken away from him. I went after him, went to see him right after the cops took him away but I was told he didn’t want to see me. The finality of those words, the finality of the situation…nearly broke me.

  My entire life ended up being taken away from me and now we have nothing. All of our assets are frozen, Dad can no longer tend to his flock—his words—Mother is weeping all the time and I can’t live with them anymore. Neither can Evan. It’s too stressful. Too awful.

  They lost the house. Temporarily, they say, until the investigation is over. But I know the truth. Dad stole all that money and Mom knew all along. We lost the summerhouse too. We’ve lost…everything.

  Somehow Dad had the foresight to pay for the entire year’s tuition at my school so I can’t get kicked out. Instead I do something worse. I go against my friends and hang with the bad girls. I move in with Evan and do whatever the hell I want because my big brother really doesn’t care. He has his own issues he’s dealing with.

  I’m fighting against myself and I’m losing.

  I’d been kept in the dark for a long time. My entire life, really. She’s too young, they said. She doesn’t need to know about that. Or this. Keep her innocent. Keep her pure.

  More like keep her stupid.

  My parents sheltered me and I knew it but I never protested. I liked living in that warm, fluffy cocoon where nothing could touch me. Hurt me. We took care of each other, Mommy and Dad and Evan and I. Dad’s flock took care of us too and we took care of them. It was one big happy family.

  Until it wasn’t.

  The cracks were there, growing with each passing day, week, month. Slowly but surely and I was oblivious.

  I’m not anymore though. My eyes are wide open and I can see everything.

  Every little thing.

  ***

  Reverie, are you there?

  Did they shut off your phone?

  I wish you would answer me. Are you mad at me? I get it. I do. And I’m sorry.

  They put me in jail. I was trying to protect you.

  I miss you Daydream. I miss you so bad my entire body hurts.

  I wish I could hold you. Smell your hair. Touch it. Touch you.

  I love you.

  ***

  October 1st

  “I’m cramping your style,” I say sarcastically as I stand at the kitchen counter and wait for my bagel to pop out of the toaster. He’d picked me up last night alone, mumbling on the drive back to his place how I ruined his chances with a really hot girl he’d been trying to score with for months.

  Ew. Not what I wanted to hear from my brother. I know he’s a bit of a player but I don’t need any of the details.

  “Kind of. But I’ll live.” Evan ruffles my hair as he walks by, headed straight for the coffeemaker which I’d started right after I woke up, feeling bleary-eyed and worn out even after a good night’s sleep.

  “Like you would bring any girl around me anyway,” I tease. My brother is almost two years older than me and he’s good looking. I know this because I see the way girls stare at him as he walks by. There’s always some girl texting him or calling him and he goes out all the time, sometimes with his friends but mostly with a girl.

  But he’s not the type to get serious. That’s why I never meet any of the girls he sees.

  As I watch Evan pour a cup of coffee wearing only sweatpants, his golden hair a disheveled mess, his eyes narrowed as he scratches his chest, all I see is my slobby big brother who’s given me nothing but a bunch of grief for most of my life.

  Since everything that happened with our parents though, he’s really come through. We’ve become closer. We’ve had to. I feel like he’s all I have and I think he feels the same.

  “Just…you need to find new friends,” he says cautiously as he dumps a butt load of sugar into his coffee cup and then pours in a glob of creamer before he dunks a spoon into the liquid and rapidly stirs. “Or go back to your old ones. Those sluts you’re hanging out with now are doing you no favors.”

  “Evan. They’re not sluts.” The bagel pops up and I pluck it from the toaster, rubbing my fingers against each other to ease the burn from the hot bread. I start to slather on the cream cheese, irritated that he would call them names. “You’re so mean.”

  “I just call it like I see it.” He turns to face me, leaning against the edge of the counter as he takes a sip of his coffee. “They left you all alone in a neighborhood you didn’t know. You went to a party where you knew no one and they abandoned you.”

  “And you’ve never done that before? Gone to a party where you knew no one?”

  He makes a face. “I’m not a seventeen year old girl. Someone could’ve raped you, Rev.”

  Evan’s right. I know it. But I don’t like hearing it. “My friends aren’t sluts,” I say again as I put the lid on the cream cheese container and set the knife into the sink. Rachel might work a little fast and loose but I wouldn’t call her a slut. I don’t like calling girls that at all. It’s a horrible word. Life is so unfair when a boy can go out and bang a bazillion chicks and no one bats an eyelash. A girl goes out and fools around with a few guys—boom, instant slut status.

  “Stop rebelling.” He’s suddenly behind me, his big hands clutching my shoulders and giving me a little shake. “Just…be you. You’re not this girl you’re pretending to be. Rolling up the waistband of your uniform skirt so it rises higher and pisses off the teachers. Wearing all the makeup on your eyes and making y
ourself look like a raccoon on acid when you used to wear no makeup at all. Ignoring your old friends so you can hang out with ones who are out partying and giving random guys blow jobs.”

  My cheeks heat and I’m thankful I’m not facing Evan. Talk about embarrassing. I haven’t given any guy a blow job. Not since Nick. I don’t want him thinking I do that sort of thing. I might be acting the fool but I don’t want my brother to think less of me.

  “Go back to being you, Reverie,” he says encouragingly, his speech almost working. “You know it’ll please Mom and Dad.”

  And those particular words just ruined it. Definitely not what I wanted to hear and like I care if I make Mom and Dad happy. They certainly didn’t care about Evan and me when they were doing whatever the heck they wanted. Spending other people’s money and robbing everyone who believed in them.

  The thing that hurts the most? They deny nothing. I’ve never heard Dad or Mother say they didn’t do it. They just moan and cry over unjust treatment and not being able to tell their side of the story. Like anyone wants to hear it.

  I know I certainly don’t. Most of the time. But every once in a while, I’m curious. I’d love to hear their excuses. I’m sure that’s all they have…a bunch of excuses. Meaningless words that sound pretty but have zero substance.

  I shrug out of Evan’s hold and grab my paper plate, taking it over to the kitchen counter and plopping onto the barstool. I eat without looking at him, without saying a word and the aggravated noise he makes doesn’t startle me like I’m sure he hoped.

  “I’m taking a shower,” he declares as he grabs one half of my bagel and takes a huge bite out of it. I glare at him and he smiles in return. Jerk. He seems way too lighthearted this morning. I’d rather he was grumpy like me. “And then I suggest you do the same. We need to leave in an hour.”

  Evan exits the kitchen, his words killing what little appetite I had. I drop the bagel onto my plate and stare off into space, my thoughts consumed with what I’m going to have to face in approximately ninety minutes.

  My parents.

  That they let me live with Evan in the first place is some sort of miracle. That Evan wanted me living with him is even more of a miracle. Mom and Dad are holed up in some swank hotel, awaiting word on their fate. We visit them every Saturday and have lunch in their suite, listening to them drone on and on, every word positive as they talk to us like we’re little innocent children who haven’t a clue as to what’s going on.

  But we know. We’re not stupid. I read the articles on the gossip sites. I watch the national news because they’ve even made that. A few times. Our father embezzled millions of dollars from The Flock of the Lambs. Millions.

  I can hardly wrap my head around it.

  My phone buzzes and I grab it, checking to see who texted me.

  You bailed last night.

  It’s Rachel.

  I couldn’t find you.

  I typed my quick answer and take another bite of my bagel, wishing I had poured a cup of coffee for myself but too lazy to get up and do it.

  How’d you get home?

  Evan picked me up.

  Your hot brother! Would you care if I became your SIL someday? I wanna have his babies.

  Ugh. They all want my brother. It’s weird.

  He farts. Like all the time. And he scratches his butt. Forgets to shower. Which means he stinks.

  I can deal with that.

  I set my phone down, not bothering to send her another text. These girls…maybe I should listen to Evan. It’s all about boys and sex and booze and skipping class. I can’t remember the last time I sat down and read. I used to love to read. I pretended to love the classics but really I was gobbling every romance I could get my hands on. Historical fiction too. Oh, and true crime.

  I have a serious issue with reading true crime books.

  But not anymore. I don’t read at all. I’m nothing like my old self.

  Maybe I should reconnect with her.

  Or maybe not.

  “Darlings!” Mother rushes toward us as we enter the hotel suite, tragically elegant in a silk nightgown and robe, her hair perfectly styled, as is her makeup. “You’re finally here. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Can I get you anything?”

  Evan sends me an irritated glare before he flashes Mom a strained smile. “Sorry we’re late. Traffic was bad.”

  It’s a lie. I was bad. Resistant. I acted like a baby and told him I wasn’t going with him. We got into an argument and he practically had to drag me out of his apartment. I fumed the entire drive to the hotel, refusing to talk to Evan and finally muttering an apology to him as we rode up the elevator to our parents’ fancy hotel suite.

  Even while in supposed exile, they do it in style. Not that I’m surprised.

  “Never mind that. You’re with me now.” She draws Evan into her arms and smothers his face with kisses. She grabs at him almost desperately, holding him so close I swear I hear him gasp for air.

  She doesn’t do that with me. Evan is hers. I’m Dad’s. The divide has always been there but it’s even more defined now.

  “Rev.” I turn to find Dad standing before me wearing a suit, looking as if he’s about to go speak in front of a crowd. I wonder if he misses it. Talking to people. Helping them, leading them. I wonder if he has any guilt for what he’s done.

  I think he did it. He’s never admitted anything and neither has Mother but Evan and I have talked about it a lot. We both think they’re guilty.

  “Hi Dad.” I let him draw me into his arms, feel his lips press against my forehead, wondering if he notices I don’t call him Daddy anymore. I can’t. It doesn’t feel right. Innocence lost and all that crap.

  Closing my eyes, I squeeze them tight so the tears that want to form don’t get a chance. I want to take the comfort he offers me but it’s so hard. I’m still angry at him, at Mom. But his familiar smell messes with my head and makes me forget. Makes me feel like a little girl again.

  I don’t like it. I want to fight against the memories and tell him to let me go but I won’t. I think he needs this. Our weekly visits where we pretend for a few hours that we’re a normal family.

  But we’re not. We never will be again.

  Dad pulls away from me slightly, a frown on his face as he stares at me. “Too much makeup,” he declares, his voice hard.

  Immediately I roll my eyes and shrug out of his touch. “Stop.” I put on the extra eyeliner, shadow and mascara just to irritate him.

  “You don’t need it,” he says with a smile. Trying to soften his approach.

  It won’t work.

  “You’re pretty enough without it,” he continues.

  “Leave her alone,” Mother chastises. “Let’s have a nice lunch.”

  Lunch is anything but nice. We sit around a too-small table eating decent room service food. Mother got me a salad because I need to watch my figure and I watch with envy as Evan eats a hamburger, dunking his fries into the mound of catsup on his plate and waving them at me before he shoves them in his mouth.

  He’s so annoying. Almost twenty and he acts like he’s ten.

  During lunch, Dad talks of lies and falsehoods and Evan rolls his eyes. Mother wants to talk about memories and live in the past. Memories of when Evan and I were little and everything was sweet and peaceful and we had the lord on our side.

  Those are her words. When the lord was on our side. I bet he’s not on their side anymore, what with the way they stole from people. Innocent people, most of them elderly and the majority of them on a fixed income, who wanted nothing more than to help Reverend Hale and his flock.

  If I think about it too much, all the innocent people who were affected by what my parents did, it makes me sick.

  I remain silent as they talk and so does Evan. We listen to what our parents say but don’t offer much in return. Not that they notice. They’re too wrapped up in their problems and think they’re doing the right thing by keeping us away from them. That’s what Mother says every time she sees
us.

  I hate not having you with me Rev but I don’t want our troubles to taint you. It’s best you stay out of it.

  Whatever. I think it’s easier for them to not have us around so they can be completely selfish and worry about their own problems. Heaven forbid they want to deal with us.

  “I saw something on the news about that boy who worked for us last summer,” Mom says, catching my interest.

  “What guy?” Evan asks, his gaze sliding to me. The look in his eyes says everything. He knows who she’s talking about.

  And I’m silently begging him not to say anything else.

  “That boy who shadowed Michael everywhere. Nick something.” Mom waves a hand, dismissing my Nick with a flick of her fingers. “He was questioned in the murder of his ex-girlfriend.” She mock shivers. “Disgusting. Can’t believe we had a supposed murderer working at our home.”

  “It’s not our home,” I say, my teeth clenched so tight my jaw hurts. “Not anymore.”

  “Well, you know what I mean.” She sounds uncomfortable and her nervous laughter grates. I hate her.

  I hate myself. What if I turn into a version of her someday? I don’t know if I could deal.

  “Leave it alone, Rev,” Evan warns but I ignore him.

  I’m so sick of her passing judgment on something she doesn’t know or understand. He might’ve dumped me without a word but I know without a doubt he didn’t touch Krista. He was with me on what turned into both the best and worst night of my life.