The Pull of Destiny

by Hotcheri

  I scratched my nose, confused. "What do you mean? What things?"

  Luke's grin grew wider and his dimples popped into view as he replied. "Kiss somebody in mid-sentence and make out in an elevator."

  My heart skipped a beat. What the...?

  The elevator came to a smooth stop and the doors opened just as I turned to give Luke a stare of utmost surprise. He didn't see it as he was busy ushering me out of the way of the crowd of people scrambling to get in the elevator.

  What the hell had Luke just said? I helped him strike two things off his list? So did that mean he had just used me? You just got kissed and dismissed...

  I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry as we stepped outside, a brisk wind blowing my hair around my face. Luke was saying something as he flagged down a cab but I couldn't focus on him. I couldn't focus on anything except for my own stupidity. You're so easy, Celsi. I didn't want to believe it, but it had to be true. I had wanted Luke to kiss me so bad that I hadn't even wondered why he was doing it. What had changed? Obviously nothing. He just wanted to use me for his own selfish reasons. After all, I was helping him with his list! But not like that.

  The cab rolled through the streets of East Harlem, Luke continued yammering on and on and I got madder and madder. How dare he use me like that? He had to have known that I had a HUGE crush on him, why would he stoop so low and play me out like that?

  As soon as the taxi stopped a block away from my house, I turned to Luke, my hand on the door handle. Glowering at him as haughtily as I could, I said, "I'm sooo glad I helped you with your list today, Luke. But next time you plan to use me, don't."

  And with that amazing (even though I do say so myself) parting shot, I scurried out of the cab, the sweet feeling of vindictiveness running through my veins. Unfortunately, that feeling was marred by ice cold guilt. You of all people shouldn't feel guilty about letting Luke know that he hurt you. Still, the look on his face just before I got out of the cab...shocked, confused and defenseless all at once. Not your fault, Celsi. He deserved it. Right?

  I strode up the sidewalk, ignoring the wolf whistles from the guys who lounged in doorways of neglected buildings, selling rock and making deals. All I wanted to do was go home, curl up on my bed and try to forget about Luke Astor and his tendency to just say the wrong things at the most opportune times. Are all guys wired that way? Probably. Unfortunately, I nearly forgot about Luke's persistence. As I pulled my jackets hood up over my head to shield my neck from the chill wind, I heard hurried footsteps behind me. I walked faster, knowing that it had to be Luke but getting paranoid at the same time. Maybe it's that serial rapist I read about a couple years back.

  Luke put both of his hands on my shoulders all of a sudden, breathing hard into my ear as he insisted on scaring the crap out of me. Well, can you blame me for being scared? It was cold, dark and gangsta's were dealing drugs mere feet away from me, course I was gonna be scared!

  "Yo, CiCi, stop walking," he murmured into my ear, sounding as sexy as hell. Obediently, I stopped walking and turned around to eye him, one hand on my hips in an attitude-ridden pose. "What?" I said, almost in a snarl.

  Taking an involuntary step back due to my fierceness, Luke seemed kinda stunned by it.

  Good. Let him be stunned.

  "What's wrong?" he asked in a small voice, looking adorably concerned.

  "You don't know?"

  He grinned slightly. "If I did, I wouldn't be asking. So, c'mon. Tell me why you're mad. I'm guessing you're mad at me?"

  "Yes, Luke, I am mad, actually," I said haughtily.

  Luke covered my hand with his, shivering slightly. He blinked down at me, biting his lip. "Why?" he asked simply.

  I tossed my head, biting the inside of my cheek. "Because of what you said in the elevator. Remember?" I ground out, sighing at the confused look on his face. Great. Now he was gonna say no, I don't remember, then I'd have to recap the whole story when all I wanted was to forget the sudden jolt in my stomach when Luke had essentially told me he was using me for his list. If that makes sense. I hated feeling hurt, especially when it was Luke doing the hurting. You should be used to it by now.

  Sure enough, Luke had 'no idea' what I was talking about. "Um... no. I don't remember. Are you gonna tell me?"

  "Is the aneurysm messing with your short term memory?"

  I hated myself for even saying that, but it was too late. Luke's eyes widened as he stared at me, looking shocked, hurt- as if he'd just been punched in the face by a good friend.

  Shaking his head, Luke gave me a crestfallen look. "Not cool, CiCi."

  Swallowing, I said "I'm so sorry, Luke... I didn't mean..."

  "Forget it. Just tell me what I said in the elevator then I guess we can go our separate ways." He still sounded hurt to the core but this time, I couldn't feel maliciously happy. Sure, he'd hurt my feelings, but what I said had been a low blow.

  Hanging my head, my hands behind my back, I slowly reminded him of what he had said about his list while we were in the elevator.

  His reaction- a loud chuckle that really did nothing to lift the hurt and anger I felt towards him. I raised my head, staring at him incredulously.

  "I can't believe you just kissed me to knock something off your list, and I can't believe you're laughing about it," I hissed. "I'm getting out of here. Goodnig-."

  As I was twisting away from Luke, he suddenly let go of my hands, cupped my face with his hands and brought our faces together. My nose bumped his as his lips brushed over mine, just before his tongue slipped into my mouth. The kiss was relaxed and unhurried, filled with soft licks, sucks and nibbles that made things liquefy in my stomach.

  "Do you still think I just kissed you coz I wanted to use you?" he asked huskily as he finally pulled back, his gorgeous green eyes serious.

  "Uh... what... why....?" was all I was capable of saying.

  Luke sighed, sticking his hands into his pockets and shrugging. "You're so smart, CiCi, why haven't you figured it out?"

  "What?" I breathed. Could it be?

  "I didn't kiss you because I wanted to strike those things off my list. I kissed you because..." He hesitated for a second, gave me the most endearing smile EVER, and then cleared his throat, continuing. "I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I've been wanting to."

  I wasn't equipped to handle all this in one day. What do girls say when guys tell them stuff like that? I wish Robyn was here.

  "But then, why'd you even mention the list?" I asked softly, gazing at him.

  He laughed humourlessly. "Because I was nervous, CiCi, and I didn't know what to say so I just said the most douchebaggy thing I could think of."

  Luke, nervous? Douchebaggy, a word? Yikes.

  I smiled tentatively at him, my heart thudding with relief. Feeling chuffed that Luke had admitted to wanting to kiss me definitely wasn't making matters worse.

  He grinned back, spreading his arms. "Are we cool?" he asked.

  Nodding, I stepped into his embrace, resting my head on his chest as he rubbed my back. "Yeah. We're cool."

  "Good," Luke whispered into my ear as he smoothed my hair. "Can I call you tomorrow? To hang out?"

  "Okay. But I gotta get home now."

  Reluctantly, Luke let go of me and I trotted home, trying to ignore the cat calls and whistles I was getting. Let them jeer at me. Luke Astor just kissed a sista!

  ***

  Unless of course, he felt sorry for me.

  That troubling thought hit around the time I pulled the covers up to my chin in bed and stayed with me while I was on the phone with Luke the next morning.

  "...And we can plant a tree. What do you think?"

  "Sounds good," I replied, barely paying attention to anything that Luke was saying. My mind was busy exploring, going off into tangents that had had me up all night long.

  Why would a rich, handsome, well connected guy like Luke want anything to do with me? As in, why would he want to kiss me? It didn't make any sense. It wasn't my looks- Dal
ton was filled to overflowing with gorgeous girls with money. It wasn't my personality- I got so shy and nervous around guys that I always could be counted on to say the wrong thing. So what was my appeal to Luke Astor?

  A mercy date.

  I tried to tell myself that I was wrong, that Luke didn't feel sorry for me, but the trouble is that when you've been up all night convincing yourself that something is true, it's hard to shake it off. And he'd been in the apartment building; he'd checked out my room and seen how I lived. Who wouldn't feel sorry for me?

  Well, I couldn't have Luke feeling obligated to hang with me just because he felt bad about the situation I was in. No sir.

  With my priorities straight, knowing full well what I had to do, I pulled on a pair of jeans, a cute sweater and my boots and headed to meet Luke at Central Park. He was waiting by the entrance, armed with two saplings, gloves and two mini-shovels. The green Jimi Hendrix t-shirt he was wearing set off his eyes perfectly and he paired it with dark jeans and Converses. Pure sexiness.

  "Ready to plant a tree?" he grinned enthusiastically, leading me to 'the perfect spot'.

  Once our trees were planted, Luke suggested a walk to a deli to get something to drink. He chatted about his dad being out of town for the weekend so he didn't have to deal with his wrath till tomorrow.

  "Why're you so quiet?" he asked me out of the blue as we walked up the sidewalk to the Slurpee place.

  I was staring at my feet as I walked, concentrating so hard that I almost tripped when Luke spoke. I glanced up at him quickly, and then looked down again.

  "No reason," I muttered, wondering why life had to be so complex.

  Smirking, Luke stopped right in front of me, making me stop too. The breeze blew his hair around wildly and I bit back a grin. I loved how Luke was so cute but didn't know it.

  "You have got to be the most transparent person ever when it comes to your feelings," he told me, pushing my hair back with both hands and grinning down at me.

  I pouted playfully as his finger traced my cheek. "Really? No fair."

  "I can read you like a book. You're being super moody. What gives?"

  Sighing, I decided to bite the bullet, swallow my pride and just tell him what was on my mind.

  "Luke...," I started, my voice trailing off as he looked down at me, his eyes roaming over my face.

  "Yeah?"

  "I don't want you to... to feel like you owe me anything."

  A look of utter mystification crossed Luke's face and he frowned. "Huh?"

  "You know- with everything that's happened..."

  I was totally speaking in riddles.

  "CiCi- what the hell are you talking about?"

  "I don't want you to be with me coz you feel sorry for me," I blurted out.

  Smart. Now it sounded like I thought we were a couple. It was just one kiss, Celsi. Get over yourself!

  Surprised, Luke raised his eyebrows. "Why would I feel sorry for you?" he asked, sounding like he really wanted to know.

  I sighed. Now he was just trying to test me, wasn't he?

  "Luke-," I started exasperatedly, trying to convey the fact that I knew it was almost impossible for him not to feel sorry for me. I was Celsi Sawyer. I had nothing. He had everything.

  "Celsi, shut up." Eyes wide, I stood there with my mouth gaping as Luke spoke so firmly that I had to obey. "How do I even say this?" His eyes roved over me as he moved closer. "You're beautiful, inside and out. You've got a good heart and you're super helpful." I gulped, blinking back tears at the sincerity in his voice. He grasped my hands, smiling at me. "You've got these beautiful hands filled with talent. And you've got brains. That's hot." He shot me a crooked grin. "You can be whatever you wanna be."

  I blinked rapidly, tears threatening to run down my cheeks. That was hands down the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me. Add the fact that it was coming from Luke and it sounded like it was coming from the heart made it ten times better.

  "You're just saying that because you want to get into my pants," I said, then clapped my hand over my mouth in horror. You shoot, you score, Celsi.

  Luckily, Luke found my slip funny.

  "I would never just say that, even though I do want to get into your pants." The sexiest eye contact ever. "I don't feel sorry for you. I don't care that you live in the projects, that you're on Financial Aid or that you're poor. That's not why I like you. I like you because of what you've got up here-" he brushed his fingers against my temples, making me shiver- "...and what you've got down here-." He pointed to my heart. "So you need to stop worrying about why I like you and just be glad that I like you. Okay?"

  I couldn't help giggling in between my sniffles and Luke wrapped an arm around me, kissing the top of my head.

  "You've got a pretty high opinion of yourself," I joked. "What makes you so sure that I like you?"

  Luke's answer was vintage Luke- short, sweet and painfully vulnerable.

  "Because I can't resist you and I'd hate to be alone in this."

  He gave me another crooked, hot grin as I stared up at him in astonishment.

  Did he actually just-?

  CHAPTER 25

  time warp.

  Luke’s Bucket List- Bury a time capsule

  Leave a huge tip

  Luke’s Point of View

  I woke up the day after an exhausting family group therapy session with more energy than I’d had in a long time. Even when I had school to go to, I was never awake before 8am, but on this particular day, I was ready to take on any and everything and waking up late wasn’t gonna cut it.

  My first stop was the shower, where I plugged my iPod into its dock and proceeded to sing along to Jimi Hendrix. There’s nothing better than letting your frustrations out while listening to good music. And it wasn’t like I was being selfish or inconsiderate- dad was probably at his office already and Faith had Hope awake at around 7am. Right now they were probably at one of their mother/daughter yoga classes. Yeah, yoga for five year olds. Go figure.

  After my much needed music therapy (the best kind of therapy life had to offer, especially since it meant I didn’t have to deal with a too nice therapist who kept asking me ‘and how does that make you feel?’) I got dressed and walked to the kitchen to make myself something to eat and go over my list.

  It was time to step it up with the list. Even though CiCi and I had made incredible headway with it, some annoyingly persistent niggling feeling told me that I didn’t have much time to waste. I didn’t want to share my increasingly negative thoughts with anyone and I definitely didn’t want to say a damn thing about my worsening headaches, so I just kept my mouth shut. Pouring myself a fresh glass of apple juice, I frowned at my shaking hand.

  “This bites,” I muttered to myself.

  But today wasn't the day to feel sorry for myself. I had important stuff to do. It was time for me to suck it up, ignore the pain and get to business.

  Feeling around in my pocket, I drew out my phone and dialed the number for 'Time Capsule's Inc.' Like the name suggested, they were the go to guys if you needed a time capsule that looked like it was just part of the scenery. I found out about them a couple of days ago when I was Googling how to 'make' a time capsule and they seemed like the most interesting NYC based company that specialized in time capsules. I mean, they made realistic looking hollow rocks and logs! How cool was that?

  I made plans to pick up my fake rock at around lunch time in their Rockefeller Plaza office, hung up and dropped my list on the counter. Hopefully, by the end of the day, I would have knocked one more thing off of my list. And if CiCi wasn't busy, maybe I could call her up to help me out and we could spend some time together. I grinned to myself as I picked a shiny green apple from the fruit bowl. CiCi. She was pretty special, and I loved the way her hair smelled. Like wild strawberries. Yum.

  I did a double take as dad strode into the kitchen, a newspaper in his hand and his phone clamped to his ear. Well, at least I was used to the phone part. But I thought he was alrea
dy at work, usually he could hardly wait for the sun to rise so he could get out of the penthouse. He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

  “Morning,” dad grunted. It took me a couple of seconds to realize he was actually talking to me.

  “Hey, dad,” I replied, biting into the apple to hide my surprised face.

  Okay, what was going on? Dad never talked to me in the morning, unless it was to ream me out for not going to my therapy sessions or for missing a doctor’s appointment. I'd been scrupulously attending every single appointment since my expulsion, which was a pretty big deal for me, so it couldn't be a lecture about that. Usually I used every excuse I could come up with to get out of therapy, but for the past week or so, I'd been going without a single complaint. Could be CiCi's influence that was getting to me. She thought that therapy was the answer for everything, and I didn't want to disappoint her by letting her know that it was all pretty much bull. You see what I would do, just to make this girl happy? More proof that I was turning soft, but for CiCi, I didn't mind at all.

  Dad hung up on the person he was talking to, standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen like he wasn't quite sure what he was doing there. “Sleep well?”

  This was starting to trip me out. Smalltalk? Between Lucas Senior and Luke the Third? Never happened.

  I nodded, wondering if Hope was putting something in dad's nightly brandy. Happy pills would make sense. “Yeah, I slept alright,” I lied.

  Actually, I tossed and turned for half of the night, eventually popping a Tylenol 3 to help me sleep. Yeah, the headaches had gotten so bad that I was being prescribed Tylenol 3. Yet Dr. Khan still didn't think surgery was a good idea.

  “Good,” dad said, clearing his throat. He glanced at me, opened his mouth abruptly like he was about to say something, then shut it again.