Read Online The Pull of Destiny by Hotcheri - Free Book Online

pathetic that
the thought of what his peers thought about him would reduce them to meeting in
secret like that, but I wasn’t in any position to pass judgment. I had stayed
up all night wondering what people thought of me.
    In
another cubicle was Terry Hart, a freshman. He played violin, and he played it
very badly. I smiled and waved at him as I quickly passed the door, willing
myself not to give in to temptation and just clap my hands over my ears to blot
out the noise he was making.
    Luckily,
the last cubicle was empty. Thanking my lucky stars, I rushed in, sat down and
started living. My fingers flew over the keys, seeking out the correct notes
without even referring to a book. I was so engrossed in playing that nothing
else registered until-
    “Wow.
That was amazing. You’re really good.”
     
    Jolted
(literally) out of my reverie, (I was playing Sydney Music Hall) I screamed,
high and loud, and tumbled to the ground as my chair tipped over. My heart was
thumping as I lay on my back, eyes searching to find the speaker. I froze as my
eyes met a pair of dark green ones.
    Luke.
    Still
scared out of my wits, I shrieked, “Will you stop creeping up behind me?!”
    Stepping
closer to me, he grinned. “I didn’t creep up behind you,” he explained. “I
walked. I even waited till you were finished playing before I said anything.
It’s not my fault you’re so jumpy.”
    Sounded
reasonable, but I wasn’t in the mood to be reasonable. Not when I was being
assailed by the fresh, clean scent of soap.
    “I’m
not jumpy,” I muttered, trying to hoist myself up. What was he doing here,
ruining my good time? Probably wants to use the room to entertain his flock
of fan girls with his stupid guitar. Great. Just great. Well, I wasn’t
going to keep him waiting.
    He
stretched out a hand. “You need my help getting up?”
    A
small smile played around his lips, making me fume. He’s laughing at me!
    “I
can get up myself,” I replied in a haughty voice, awkwardly pushing myself to
my feet and dusting off my pants. Thank goodness I didn’t end up wearing a
skirt today.
    Luke
withdrew his hand and stood there looking at me as I picked up my bag. So
much for the piano playing.
    “Where
you going?” he asked as I closed the piano lid and started sidling around him
to get to the door and run. I noticed that he was empty handed, guitar-less and
his rabid fans were nowhere to be seen or heard. What the-?
    Still,
I indifferently tossed my head in his direction, swinging my bag onto my
shoulder. “It’s all yours. I was just leaving,” I said coolly.
    “No,
wait,” Luke said, moving so that he was standing in front of me and directly
blocking my exit. “I’m actually kinda glad I ran into you.”
    He
smiled at me, all perfect white teeth and- focus!
     
    Staring
down my nose at him (which was quite hard seeing as he was several inches
taller than me) I mustered the snootiest voice I could. “Were you really. Why?”
    He
shook his hair out of his eyes again and I bit my lip to stop myself from
yelling ‘get a freaking haircut if it annoys you so much!’ I really hoped he
wouldn’t, though. Get a haircut, I mean. His hair suited him to perfection.
Well, come to think of it, he could carry off any hairstyle. He was definitely
cute enough. And he’s a jerk. Remember that, dummy? Right. And he
was a jerk.
    “I
uh- I wanted to talk to you,” he said slowly, his hands pulling on the sleeve
of his Iron Maiden t-shirt. He’s nervous! About talking to me! That’s so
cute! Then I gave myself a mental slap, remembering Shazia's words- ‘if
he apologizes for the first time, play hard to get.’
    If
he was indeed here to apologize, (and it certainly seemed like it, if the
guilty look in his eyes was anything to go by,) I wasn’t going to make it easy
for him.
    “Nothing
you could say could make me want to stay here and talk to you,” I said with
feeling. Cute or not, he had been way out of line yesterday. I was