The Pull of Destiny by Hotcheri Read Free Book Online Page A

nodded and took a step back, grabbing an apple from a
fruit bowl.
    “Good.
Go get your bag and get a move on. You’re going to make me late,” he ordered,
already walking out of the kitchen. I followed him into the living room, my
lack of sleep making me feel oh so slow.
    I’m going to make him late? Since when did I ride with him- anywhere?
    “I
got a ride,” I protested lamely, knowing that it was no use. Dad owned every conversation. He was always right. This meant I was going to have to
spend 15 minutes in his limo as he yelled out some poor unfortunate sucker on
his phone. Bully. “Wendy’s picking me up.”
    He
grabbed his newspapers off of the coffee table, not looking at me. “Bullshit.
Every time Wendy picks you up, you and your friends head over to her house for
one of your stupid parties. You’re going to school today, son. And if I have to
walk you into the building myself, so be it. Let’s get a move on.”
     
    I
didn’t even bother replying and telling him that I hadn’t even been to Wendy’s
since Shane died. He wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t even care. Shane had been my
best friend in the whole wide world since we were in diapers and my dad hadn’t
even gone to the funeral. He’d even had the nerve to say Shane, who had dabbled in drugs from time to time (but nothing too heavy, we all used to do a
little E once in a while), had brought his death upon himself and that I would
be next. What dad forgot was that Shane died in a car accident, not from an
overdose. Ever since that day, my respect for my dad just- slid away. He was
still my dad, but he was too wrapped up in his own awesomeness to give a damn
about me. Unless he was trying to run my life, like now.
    I
grabbed my bag and we went down the elevator in total silence, except for the
occasional rustling of newspaper. Dad’s Mercedes limo was parked right outside
our building and we got in, umbrella’s being held over our heads even though it
was barely showering. Just another perk of being rich and infamous, right?
    We
were silent most of the drive to school till out of the blue-
    “You
better not skip out on me today. You have any idea how much that missed
appointment cost me? You always cost me cash with your histrionics,” dad
barked. I slouched back in the comfortable seat of the limo, popping open a can
of Dr. Pepper and swigging down my Tylenol’s.
    “I’ll
pay you back when I’m 21 and gain access to my trust fund money,” I replied
evenly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
    He
snorted loud and derisively. “If I come pick you up and you’re not at the front
desk, you’re in deep trouble, young man,” he said, changing the subject
brusquely.
    I
stared out of the tinted window at the people hustling up and down the
sidewalks and wondered if Celsi was there.
    “Can’t
wait,” I said idly, sticking my hands in the pockets of my jeans.
    The
car stopped at the Dalton school entrance. Dad glared at me over his newspaper.
    “Get
a move on.”
    Just
another warm, family moment.
    “Gotcha,”
I mumbled, opening the door and stepping out of the car, blinking as my eyes
adjusted to the light and pain flared up in my temples. I slammed the car door
shut and walked slowly up the stairs, wondering if the nurse had something
stronger than Tylenol. Like maybe some Vicodin.
     
    ***
     
    I
got through the morning by sleeping through most of my classes- luckily, I
don’t snore. Then I started on Mission Apologize to Celsi.
    Easier
said than done. I couldn’t even find the girl, let alone apologize to her. She
wasn’t in the canteen. She wasn’t in the library. She wasn’t in the gym. She
wasn’t even under the bleachers.
    Walking
back to the school after paying a freshman 5 bucks to check in the girl’s
locker room (she wasn’t there either), I spotted Wendy, Ahmed and Joanna
strolling towards me.
    “Hey,
daddy’s little princess!” Ahmed greeted me, slapping my back. “You get a wide
with daddy dearest