Destined

Eight

Since Talia had later classes on Wednesdays, I drove to school on my own for my onslaught of classes. Calculus AP in the morning, followed by a Religious Studies class. Then after lunch a three hour social science class. It was a bore. My lecturer, Miss Flemmings had a high pitched voice and wore thin glasses and had a plethora of floral patterned tops. I wasn't paying her any attention. My mind was still reeling from everything Celine had told me. I was at a loss.

I'd gotten home later than expected the previous night. My mum seemed to have accepted whatever lame excuse I gave her and allowed me to go to bed without further interrogation. She slept in my room so I bunked with Talia. That morning, I'd left the house much earlier, to avoid my mum, and ended up parked outside the lecture hall typing away on my laptop using the opportunity to get Vince's homework started.

I met Talia and Tyler on my way out after my class and they looked every bit a happy couple. Holding hands and laughing. I greeted them as l went off to the library.

I sat at a desk to continue with Vince's paper. I had always liked writing, even favored it over other homework. But now the need to make the paper great had more to deal with the fact that I wanted to impress him. So I worked my ass off.

As life would have it, Vince was in the library too. That day he was wearing grey slacks and a white t-shirt. It was the most formal attire I'd seen him in thus far. His hair was tied back at the nape of his neck and he was wearing reading glasses making him look a thousand times more attractive. He was standing in front of a shelf, his nose buried in a book he'd picked up.

I sat not too far from where he was, making sure to be as quiet and discreet as possible. I pulled my books out of my bag and arranged them on the table preparing myself to study instead of write. I opened a book but kept my eyes on his back. Even his back was good to look at. He abruptly turned around and spotted me immediately. I averted my eyes but he came over any way.

"What a coincidence," he whispered and sat down beside me.

Chills ran up my spine. His voice was so low and husky and my heart began to beat rapidly.

"Indeed," I croaked.
"What are you doing here?" we both asked at the same time and then both laughed, a little loudly as we received stares from people around us.
I smiled, "You first,"
"Been going through Professor Hingley's work with you guys, he has a very detailed scheme," he answered.
"Yes, he's a very organized man, the way that essay you assigned was already in progress,"
"Something like that. Your turn,"
"Studying for a make-up test,"
"What subject?" he asked.
"History of Culture,"
He stood, "Well I won't take anymore of your time, good luck,"

And he returned the book to its shelf before leaving the library. I watched him leave admiring his back side again. And then I noticed I wasn't the only one doing it.

I didn't see him again the rest of the day. And I hated that I had wanted to. It didn't matter though because all thoughts of Vincent Delavigne fled my mind when I got home to find Detectives Aubrey and Jackson as well as my mum. And just as fast as they went, they came back, but in a different light altogether.

Ever since my parents divorced, my mum has always been paranoid. She always assumes the worst of people. I think it's because she believes she should have known dad was cheating. The late nights, hushed phone calls, hiked credit card charges and his mood swings around her. Now, whatever's going on around her, she over thinks it.

It was the first thing I noticed when I got into the house. My mum was seated across from them, tapping her fingers against her knee, a habit she'd picked up on when she was observing people. I could tell she was mentally sizing up the two detectives, seeing which one of them she could bring down.