The Pull of Destiny

by Hotcheri

  I nodded. “To the date.”

  “Roger that.”

  I was silent for a moment. “And if anything happens to me-.”

  “Luke!” CiCi sounded scandalized.

  “No, really, CiCi. If anything happens to me- if I don't make it, all I ask is that you give Faith all my stuff. But keep the t-shirt and the letter. Those are yours.”

  CiCi clung to me, hiding her face in my chest. “Nothings gonna happen to you, Luke,” she said, her voice muffled by my t-shirt. “You're going to have surgery, get better and meet me here in 5 years and we're going to laugh at this very conversation. Okay?”

  I stepped out of her embrace, cupping her exquisite face in my hands. “Yes, ma'am,” I smirked, feeling better nevertheless. CiCi's little motivational talks always had a beneficial effect on me. “Now, are you gonna kiss me or what? Just so we can remember that too when we come back in 5 years.”

  Celsi’s Point of View

  There’s just something about spending an afternoon with the guy you like, watching him get tackled by a gang of rowdy preschoolers and seeing him enjoy every minute that makes me want to burst into song.

  Liar!

  Okay, so I had to blame my off-key singing while preparing dinner on something, and Luke did look super cute playing with the kids at the daycare and- I’m rambling again. Let’s just say it was a nice change for me to waltz around the kitchen, singing ‘In my own little corner’ by Brandy and daydreaming about Luke. For the past week, I had been the living definition of ‘nervous wreck’ in the apartment. Nate was drinking again. I still hadn’t forgotten (or forgiven if you really must know) the whupping he gave me last time and I was trying to stay out of his way as much as possible and get his meals cooked ahead of time. Unfortunately, we had precious little in the way of food but I did what I could. Aunt Kelly still refused to take my money.

  Still, I refused to get bogged down in negative thoughts as I danced around the tiny kitchen, humming happily. I turned to snag the pepper shaker from the counter, almost shrieking as I saw Aunt Kelly standing in the doorway, an amused grin on her face.

  “OMG, you scared me!”

  I leaned against the countertop, my heart thudding in my chest as I fanned myself with a spatula.

  “Sorry,” Aunt Kelly snickered, not looking apologetic at all. “But you were having so much fun; I didn’t want to ruin it.”

  “How long have you been there?”

  “About halfway through the song.” She winked at me. “Great singing voice. You must have gotten that from me.” Lord, how embarrassing. “I figure you had a good day?”

  “I did, auntie,” I said, my heart still thumping. I didn't have the disposition to handle scares like that. “I went to the daycare after school.”

  “With a certain special someone?” Aunt Kelly asked, a twinkle in her eyes.

  “Ye-es,” I admitted, a bashful smile twisting up my lips.

  “You two sure have been spending quite a bit of time together lately,” Aunt Kelly noted, shrugging out of her black jacket. I took it from her, placing it on the coat hook behind the door. “I'm surprised you're not going steady yet.”

  I giggled. Going steady? Please don't let this be a prelude to a 'back in my day' speech!

  “Well, he hasn't exactly said anything about us 'going steady',” I admitted. I can't hide much from Aunt Kelly, I trust her too much.

  To be honest, I wasn't quite sure where I stood with Luke. Sure, he kissed me often and it was good, but he didn't really say anything about us dating, or if we were exclusive or just hanging out. And I really wanted to know. It would be really awesome to hear him introduce me as 'my girlfriend.' I smiled to myself. Introduce me to who, though?

  “Do you think he's serious about you?”

  I looked up at Aunt Kelly in surprise and she gazed back at me.

  “I think he is. Well, to be honest- I really don't know,” I muttered, looking at the ground.

  “I know you don't want to hear it, but I have to ask you this, simply because I'm watching out for your best interests,” Aunt Kelly said softly.

  I nodded. I knew she was looking out for me and I wouldn't expect anything less from her. It just sucked that I didn't know if Luke liked me enough to want to date me or not.

  “I know auntie.”

  “This is, in all probability, just a passing fling for the boy,” Aunt Kelly continued calmly. I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “How often do you see something like this happening, Celsi? An heir falling for a girl from the ghetto?”

  Sighing and knowing that she was 100 percent right, I replied, “Not very often.”

  Especially not in our hood.

  “It's basically the kind of thing that only happens in novels or in fairytales. This isn't fiction, baby, it’s real life. Your life. I'm not trying to say that Luke doesn't care about you. All I'm saying is that you probably shouldn't take this to heart. That way, if he ends up dropping the ball on you, you'll leave with most of your heart intact.”

  “I understand, auntie,” I said woodenly, not liking this little lecture at all. Shouldn't take this to heart? Surely it was too late for that by now! Luke already has most of my heart.

  “Maybe I'm wrong. I hope I'm wrong, Celsi,” Aunt Kelly said, reaching out to pat my hand. “But boys like Luke and girls like you- it’s never meant to be.”

  CHAPTER 26

  curiosity killed the cat.

  Luke’s Point of View

  I woke up with my mom on my mind for two consecutive mornings after I told CiCi about her. It was an occupational hazard, but it still made the pain of not knowing her that much deeper. Usually, I tried to pretend like she had never existed because honestly, how much does it suck to know that your own mother is out there somewhere but you can't get in touch with her and vice versa, no matter how you want to? Whenever I happened to talk about her at length (and that hasn't happened often in my life) I walked around in a daze for a few days after that, just thinking about her. Where she was, what she was doing, wondering if she ever thought about me at all...

  Times like those, I wished Grandma was still alive, just so I could ask her more about my mom. Selfish, I know, but I didn't exactly have a choice. All dad ever said about mom was crazily cryptic and right now, I didn't have the brain power to decipher it. Grandma Astor had been the only member of the Astor family who made an effort to talk to me when I was younger and went to the family summer home in Martha's Vineyard with my dad. All of the other Astor's would just go through the formalities and that was it. When she was confined to her bed after her first stroke, I went to visit her several times a week and she started telling me stories about her life and how forcing dad to marry my mom was the worst thing Grandpa Astor could have done.

  “Your father didn't love her at all, you see,” she would explain to me in her weak, reedy voice. “All he had been interested in was the sex. He didn't think he would be stuck with her after that. Your poor mother kept hope alive, but she never had a chance to make him love her.”

  All those thoughts started to depress me and on the second morning, a Monday, I got out of bed, hell-bent on doing something to banish the images of my mom and grandma from my mind. After taking a long shower and changing, I took Faith to the Playgarden in Tribeca for the whole morning and most of the afternoon. Fulfilling my brotherly duties and having fun with my awesome little sister at the same time- how cool was that?

  We got home at around 3pm but dad was expecting some 'VIP' guests and Hope was flitting around the penthouse nervously, making sure everything was perfect. There was no way I was going to hang out in such a tense environment, so I decided to bring out my inner stalker and go meet up with CiCi when school was out.

  Hopefully, I wouldn't run into Ahmed. Now that was bound to be awkward.

  The instant CiCi was out of Dalton grounds; she spotted me and veered in my direction, a hesitant smile on her face. “Hey, what are you doing here?” she asked curiously as I hugged her tightly,
burying my face into her curly hair. “Are you here to appeal?”

  “What?” I asked, confused for a second as I pulled back. “Oh, you mean appeal to get back in to Dalton? No.” I shook my head. “My dad already had a talk with Principal Herman. He refused to let me back in.”

  CiCi sighed, her eyes worried. “I can't imagine how your dad reacted.”

  “Not too well,” I said flippantly.

  Well, apart from warning Principal Herman that he would personally get him fired. But that was only to be expected.

  “What are you going to do about school?” CiCi asked, a note of concern in her voice.

  “Nothing, right now. Even if I went to another school, I wouldn't be able to concentrate because of these damn headaches,” I said, coming as close as I would ever come to admitting that sometimes I couldn't even think when my head was thumping. “But enough of that. Where are you going?”

  “Nino's.”

  “Want me to walk you?”

  CiCi threw me another uncertain look before her lips turned up in a tiny smile. “Sure. I mean, if you don't have anything else to do.”

  That was my CiCi. Always the democrat.

  I linked arms with her. “Even if I did, I would still walk you to Nino's,” I told her.

  Her smile grew wider as she gazed up at me. “You're so sweet.”

  “I try my best.”

  We started walking along the sidewalk in silence, hand in hand. I kept shooting her little sideways glances, hoping she wouldn’t notice me ogling her as we walked. CiCi’s face was devoid of makeup but she looked perfect, her plump lips quirking as she probably thought about something funny. Her eyes were bright and happy and that alone made me smile. Just being round her was enough to give me a positive vibe. Did everyone feel like this when they were falling in love?

  Then my eyes fell on the faint yet still visible scar under her eye and involuntarily, my stomach clenched with anger. Here I was, moping around the house thinking about my mom, and all the while CiCi had a mother figure in her life who didn’t even notice when her precious niece was getting beaten up by her own son? Where was the justice in that situation?

  Kneading her shoulders, I pulled her closer to me. “What's with your aunt, anyways?” I asked suddenly as she blinked up at me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, two things, actually. Firstly, are you really trying to say she doesn't realize that Nate was responsible for your busted lip and that cut under your eye?” I asked, tracing a finger down her cheek.

  Eyes wide, she tried to interrupt me. “Luke-,” she started, but I wanted to say my piece. It had obviously been niggling at me for a long time and if I didn't say it now, I might never say it.

  I put my hand up to stop her. “No, really, CiCi. I just have to get this out. Your aunt has to realize that something’s not right. I mean, did she actually believe your story about you walking into a door?” I asked her incredulously. “I walk into doors but I never end up with bruises on my face and a fat lip!”

  Damn, I wished I could shake some sense into the girl. There was no way I enjoyed seeing her low. And knowing that her aunt could stop it if she knew- that made this situation even harder.

  “She's busy, okay? Luke, my aunt gives up everything for me, just so that I can go to Dalton and get the education she thinks I deserve.” She bit her lip, struggling to get her words out. “The last thing she needs is for me to trouble her with my drama.”

  I gently pulled her out of the way of a lady on rollerblades so that we were standing outside a hair salon and not directly on the sidewalk.

  “Celsi. It's not drama. Your life is at stake here and your aunt does nothing about it!”

  Even though I was trying to stay calm, just for CiCi's sake, my emotions kept getting the better of me. I was quite literally at loss for words. Why was she acting so contrary? Didn't she want to be helped?

  “What are you trying to get at, Luke?” CiCi asked, tilting her head. “Are you trying to blame Aunt Kelly for Nate's behavior?”

  And now she was twisting my words.

  I shook my head, “No. I'm blaming her for not noticing that you're all bruised up. I don't care how busy she is, she has to know that something’s up.”

  CiCi drew in a shuddering breath. “She's scared of him too, Luke.”

  “But you still have to tell her.”

  “I can't,” CiCi said, shaking her head frantically. “You don't know Nate. He's an accomplished liar. He'd spin the story to make himself look good and me look like the bad guy.” She ran a trembling hand over her hair, patting it down. “What if Aunt Kelly believed him over me, Luke? She might kick me out because Nate's her own flesh and blood.”

  I looked down into her beautiful, sad face. It made a gruesome kind of sense. CiCi's aunt probably would take her sons side, just because he was her son. CiCi didn't really have back up and she obviously didn't want to sour relations between mother and son by accusing Nate of beating on her.

  But still... “You're the one with the bruises,” I pointed out softly.

  “I know,” CiCi replied in a voice so low it was almost a whisper. “But sometimes people don't want to see what’s right in front of them.”

  “But what if-,” I started, knowing I was shooting blanks and not caring. If something I said stuck to CiCi and made her think, maybe she would take action. Hopefully.

  A brave smile on her face, CiCi said, “Nothing's gonna happen to me, Luke.”

  “How can you be so sure?” I asked, taking her cold hands into mine.

  “Just- let's not talk about this anymore, okay?” Her eyes brimmed with tears and she wiped them away with the heel of her hand. “Not right now. I need to get to work.”

  I sighed, rubbing her back as we started slowly up the sidewalk again. “Alright. I just- I hate that he does this to you and you don't have anyone to protect you.” Wrapping my arm around her, I continued. “I wish I could protect you, but I can't be with you 24/7.”

  “Just knowing you care is enough.”

  Not in this case. Caring wouldn't stop Nate from hitting her, wouldn't wipe her tears. It wasn't enough for me to just care, I had to do something. I just didn't know what.

  “I just wish I could get you away from Nate.”

  CiCi sniffled again. “Me too,” she whispered.

  Suddenly, I asked, “Why won't your aunt tell you about your dad?”

  “What?” CiCi shot me a puzzled look. Blame my randomness for my tendency to jump from one subject to another, but I was leading up to something.

  “Your aunt. You told me she might know who your dad is but she won't tell you. Why?”

  Maybe if CiCi's dad was in her life, Nate would be leery of hitting CiCi.

  Shrugging, CiCi stared at the ground as she walked. “Maybe he doesn't want anything to do with me.”

  “You also told me that he has no idea he even has a daughter.” CiCi glanced at me, evidently surprised that I still remembered. “So if that's true, how could he not want to have anything to do with you when he doesn't even know you exist?”

  A tiny smile worked its way onto CiCi's lips. “You remember too much,” she mock pouted.

  “Yeah, it’s a bad habit,” I said, grinning back at her.

  “I don't know why she won't tell me,” CiCi replied, looking at me pensively. “She probably doesn't want me to get my hopes up too high. What if he did know about me but wanted nothing to do with me?”

  Personally, I didn't see that happening. How could anyone not want anything to do with CiCi? She was one of the most special people I'd ever met.

  “But if he knew about you and knew that you're being abused, wouldn't he do something to make sure that Nate never put his hands on you again? I mean, Nate wouldn't be the only father figure in your life anymore. He might think twice about his method of teaching you discipline when your dad is in your life.” CiCi shrugged, not looking too convinced. I understood what she was thinking. She'd already been abandoned by he
r own mother. Why would her dad want her too? “Abusers are usually cowards.”

  “I don't know, Luke,” CiCi replied, sounding listless. I hated the dejection I could hear in her voice. She sounded like she had just given up. “She has a good reason for not telling me.”

  Or a selfish one.

  We walked the rest of the way in silence. Outside the deli, CiCi turned to look at me.

  “I gotta go,” she whispered.

  Biting my lip, I reached out to her. “Hey, I'm really sorry for- everything, okay? I didn't mean to disrespect your family in any way, especially your aunt.”

  CiCi nodded. “Okay.”

  “I just get all defensive when I see shit like this happening to you, CiCi. I hate seeing you in pain. I'm sorry if I went overboard.”

  Patting my arm lightly, CiCi said, “It's okay, Luke, really. I understand where you're coming from. Besides, I'm glad you get fired up about the stuff I go through.” She smiled at me. “It makes me feel like I'm not alone.”

  I impulsively reached out and hugged her tight. “I've always got your back,” I whispered in her ear. “I don't wanna push you, but can you do me a favor?”

  She pulled back, squinting at me. “What?”

  “Just think about telling your aunt. You don't have to tell her anything, but just think about it. Please.”

  Her shoulders dropped and she nodded, all the fight seeping out of her. “Fine Luke, I will.”

  “Thanks, CiCi.” I swallowed hard, looking at her. “Can I kiss you?”

  She flushed prettily as I asked her. “Yes,” she whispered, letting my lips move over hers in a slow, sweet kiss. “Thanks for walking me.”

  “No problem,” I replied, watching as she walked into the deli and let the door swing shut behind her.

  I started walking down the sidewalk, hailing a cab at the intersection.

  My first plan had been to go back home and take refuge in my room, but now I had other plans. This whole CiCi thing was eating me up. Even though we were both in the same kind of situation (AWOL moms) at least I had a family, albeit with an emotionally unavailable dad. CiCi didn't even know her father. And didn't she deserve to know him and vice versa? If I found out that I had a baby somewhere (God forbid) I would want to see him or her as soon as I could.