Chapter 19. Tug of War

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Chapter19. Tug of War

Tug of war was a test of supremacy. With two evenly matched opponents on each end of the rope, you get to measure strength, drive, and the willingness to win. Life was like that too, especially mine.

"Start!" The commencement of the war didn't begin with the word. It began with a short whistle.

"Ungh!"

"Pull!" A classmate screamed behind me.

"Our grades count on this! Freaking pull, Destiny!" another threw in.

I coiled the rope on my right hand and pulled.

"Heave!" Ester yelled from the other side.

"Ho!" The students from the bench laughed as someone said.

The match had barely begun, yet my arms and shoulders were already strained. My legs too. In front of me, Ester's face was bright red, cheeks puffed, neck taut. She'd manage to transfer from her P.E class to mine so we'd have a few classes together. Good for us, though bad for competitions.

"Lean back!" my teammate suggested. Most of them did it, but I stayed how I was. Ester was moving forward to dominate our side of the line. I should probably too.

"Hey!" I grunted as we met in the middle. Tug of war wasn't tug of war without a few snippets of conversation here and there. We might as well have milkshake too.

"Hi!" she grunted back. Looking behind her, she screamed, "Harder!"

"Doesn't. Sound. Right," I huffed.

"Deal with it."

"Stop gossiping and pull!" someone yelled. And so we were back to pulling.

Sometime between the constipation of tugging, and the thoughts of losing, Ester smiled at me and let go of the rope. The subtracted member allowed my side to dominate, thus we tumbled backward to a win.

"What the hell, Ester!" her teammate yelled. They were collecting themselves from the pieces of the fall. "This is our quiz for today!"

She shrugged and wiped her brows. "If this is your basis for pass or fail, you're doing something wrong with your studies." She turned to me and grinned again. She looked so much like her twin that way. It made me cringe. "Bench?" She gestured to the seats.

"Sure." I dusted myself up, received congratulatory pats on the back from my teammates, and followed her.

Ester didn't wait once we were seated. She wasn't good at keeping her thoughts back. Unlike some people I knew. Cough. Genesis.

"Spencer is a stupid boy," she said.

"He's your brother."

"He's a twat," she repeated. "I don't make the habit of defending twats. Brother or otherwise." Ester's lips were pressed into a line as she shifted to me. Only then did her dark eyes soften. "But forgive that twat."

"Es. . ."

"I don't like meddling in relationships, you know that. I've been keeping my mouth sealed ever since Genesis came back, but this." Her shoulders hunched. "What are you kids doing with your life?"

My shoulders hunched beside hers. "I have no idea."

The whistle sounded in the gym for the second time. Ester and I watched on the sidelines as another power struggle began.

After a while, she said, "We're all friends first, and whatever happens next is always secondary. We swore by candlelight."

"If your Lit club hears that." I teased her with an elbow to the rib.

"They have to deal with it too." She gave me a brief but hopeful smile. "So talk to Spence, support Genesis' campaign, and study more. That's what you should focus on."

I rolled my eyes. "And study more. You ruined the whole speech."

"Wasn't trying to give you one."

The tug of war in the middle of the gym ended with one of the teams diving to the floor. Ester and I winced for them. They were so going to bruise later.

She tilted her head to the locker rooms when the teacher signaled for us to leave. "I have advanced classes after this, then Lit Club. What about you?"

"Bumming 101 and campaign crashing. See you after school."

Subject number one was waiting for me in the classroom. His eyes were drawn to his notebook, his hand moving to form a sketch. Knowing Spencer, he could be plotting world domination with some sort of invention. An invention that wouldn't work without his sister.

"Hey," he murmured as I took a seat. Having my desk right beside him had its pros and cons. More of cons in the past few days.

I gave his face a furtive glance. It didn't change much since I've last spoken to him. Except for his lips. Every time I see it, I was reminded of two things; the good and the bad, both of which would leave me disgruntled and bothered.

The class kicked off with a pop quiz. Afterwards, we were pretty much free to laze back on our chair, gaze at the window, and imagine the thousands of things we could be doing if we weren't suffocating in the room. In my case, I thought of her.

"Did I make your heart beat fast, Destiny?"

"Yes," I should have said. "Why is that?"

"Why is what?"

"Why. . . Why?"

I didn't know what word to follow next. All I knew was my eyes would close, my hand would raise, and then—

"Destiny Jones, take seat. Is there something wrong with your lips?"

My eyes snapped open in mortification. The teacher and the whole class was looking at me.

"I, uh. . ."

Spencer's fist pounded on his desk, bringing everyone's attention to him. He laughed like it was no big deal. "Can't believe I lost the bet, Des. I'll give you ten later."

"Stop betting on my class, Mr. Gonzales, and start studying more."

"Aye, aye, Mr. Davis."

I gave Spencer a grateful glance when I sat down. I guess he was back on my team in this life called tug of war.






As I have fondly told Ester earlier, Campaign crashing was right after Bumming 101. Needless to say, I snaked through the crowded hallway, made my way through the throng of heavily-cologned students, just to arrive at the room I called Extra. It was one of those rooms that weren't used for class, which was why it was turned into something useful once in a while, like a place for a team to meet when they needed space.

I checked myself once I was standing outside the door. My sweater was crooked.

"Let me just fix that," I mumbled. "Shit, my shoelaces are untied."

It took me two minutes to settle what should been done in seconds. Took another minute or so to smell my breath, stretch my arms, before finally knocking on the room. I didn't know why I was so nervous lately. Teenage crisis?

A guy with glasses and a glob of gel on his hair opened the door. One look at me and he was glancing over his shoulder. "President, you have a visitor."

The conversation inside stopped. There were shuffling of chairs before an answer was made. "Not president yet."

"Are you kidding me? You're a sure win." The guy stepped back to make some room. "And that's what we're here for. I haven't traded my social life to see you lose."

"You have no social life," someone else in the room said.

With the guy not blocking the way anymore, I saw Genesis writing on her notebook. She was seated on a chair, part of a bigger circle of around ten people. Her pen stopped moving in that instance. She glanced up, saw me, and smiled like an angel. I died on the spot.

"Get in," the guy with the glasses said. Genesis' smile faltered as I was pushed into the room.

The more I stepped inside though, the more I could see why I've made the mistake of going there. These people meant business. Most of her team were known leaders in their class, movers in this little monarchy that was Bear Creek High.

My steps slowed before I reached them. Even Genesis looked like she didn't go there to screw around. Her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, her usual fashion nowadays.

"Is she here for the campaign?" one of her groupmates asked. The girl didn't smile when she looked at me. I hated to admit it, but most of them were known snobs too.

Genesis lowered her pen and shook her head. "Destiny is here as a supporter."

"A supporter?" They all gave me a pensive glance. "Maybe it would benefit us if we involve her more."

Genesis' expression morphed into impassiveness. I didn't know what to think as she switched her gaze from me to the girl. "Care to explain that?" she said coldly.

But the girl wasn't me. She couldn't detect the slightest changes in Genesis' mood. I cringed when she said, "We can use her as our face."

"As our. . . Face?"

"Yup. Destiny can be pretty if she wants. Since you have to maintain a certain look, the sexy part could come from he—"

"Destiny's mine!" Gene snapped. "She's not an object to parade around. Use your fucking brain if you have one!" Her chair scraped as she stood. The others have fallen silent. "We'll have a five-minute recess. The meeting is adjourned until then."

My breaths were short and shallow when we made it out. Genesis had stomped from the classroom.

We sank on the floor almost at the same time. None of us spoke for a bit.

"I'm sorry I said that," she murmured after a while.

"It's not a problem."

"No, really."

"It's not a problem," I said again.

"But you're my best friend." Our eyes clashed. "I don't own you."

Something about those words made me bitter inside. Something that didn't make sense. I wanted to punch the wall behind me. I wanted to scream and shout, and just be miserable. But I was in school and she was right. She didn't own me. I didn't own her. We were best friends. So why was I so mad?

I released the breath I didn't know I was holding and faked a smile. "You did what you thought was right. You showed those snooty kids who's boss."

Gene's own smile didn't reach her eyes. "They are snooty," she admitted.

"So why are you with them?"

"You know why." She leaned her head on the wall and exhaled. "Dindo keeps following me around. I just want to win the elections and get this over with."

"I can punch him."

She chuckled, for real this time. "He has a blackbelt on Jujitsu. I doubt either of us can make him go away."

"Sacrifices," I said.

"Sacrifices," she said.






There was one more stop before my day in school was over, and Genesis promised to catch up right after her campaign duties were done. As so, I entered the magical door by myself. The magical door to the woodworking club.

"The fourth member returns!" Woody said.

"I'm not the fourth member. I'm a guest."

Shorty smirked as she placed a box on her woodworking bench. "You're here almost everyday anyway. What's the big deal?"

"I'm just bored." I made my way to the couch. Miraculously, it wasn't covered by dust or shavings. It was pretty messy with magazines though. I pushed it out of the way before sitting. "Where's Top?"

"Doing Top things," Shorty answered.

"What does that even mean?" I glanced pointedly at Woody so she'd give me information, but as always, she shrugged and concentrated on her work. She was still trying to figure out the rocking chair. "Great," I said. "Why do I bother coming here?"

"Because you're like us," Shorty said.

"I like wood, but I'm not addicted to it," I cleared.

"We weren't talking about wood."

My stomach flipped as silence fell in the room. No sooner that it happened did the familiar noises of woodworking returned.

Over the days that Genesis was busy with the campaign, let's just say that I've been busy going here too. It could have been a comfortable experience if it weren't for moments like this. Instances when I feel like Woody, Shorty, and Top were talking about one thing but totally meant another. I was an outsider to their super-secret group.

"Whatever," I murmured. "Genesis is coming here, by the way. I told you guys about that yesterday."

"Genesis Morgan, the prettiest girl in school," Shorty said.

"Destiny is the prettiest." Woody gave another shrug when we looked at her. "Just saying."

"Psh!" I grabbed a pillow and squeezed it to my chest. "Isn't there anything about Genesis that people want to know except for her face and family? It's unfair how her own skills are overshadowed by other things."

"What skills?"

"She's good at painting," I pointed.

"Does she showcase it though?"

"No." I frowned. "But she's this super awesome person."

"That's not a skill."

"It is to me."

"What's right for you isn't right for other people."

I glared at Shorty. "Can you please leave me out of the competition in this room? I'm not a member. Keep it between you and Woody."

"Alright." She removed a glove and tossed it Woody. "Told you she likes you more."

Since Genesis was taking a long time going to the club, I took the liberty to sleep on the couch. The noises from the machines overpowered every other sound. I was only aware that she'd arrived once she'd spoken. "I think this is the right room."

"No other woodworking club in the school," Shorty said.

I closed my eyes again just when they were about to turn to me. Maybe Genesis or one of them could come over, then I'd jump up and surprise them. Super childish, but super fun.

"She fell asleep," Genesis observed. I could feel her eyes on me. The thought made me breathe hard.

"She'd been waiting for you," Woody said.

"I was caught up in the campaign."

"Or maybe with your boyfriend," Shorty said.

The sharp intake of breath could only have come from Genesis. I was tempted to open my eyes, but then something told me not to. A curious side that wanted to know too.

"My affairs are none your business," Gene said. Her voice was back to ice. She was getting good with that.

"Destiny's one confused girl," Shorty said again. "What you're doing confuses her more."

"I think that's not for us to say," Woody reasoned.

"Grow a pair, Woody. This is why Jane left the group last year. You're always holding back."

"Look," Genesis cut off. "I don't know what your deal is in this club, or whatever bitterness you have towards my private life, but I'm taking Destiny. We need to go home."

"Just wait a minute." Footsteps sounded. "People like you. . . People like you ruin people like Destiny. You should at least know that."

"People like me?!" Genesis snorted. "You don't know me. You don't know Destiny that well either."

"We can take care of her better."

"Dream on."

Genesis' scent alerted me that she was leaning forward. But the warmth of her hands never reached my face.

"We'll tell her," Shorty blurted.

"Of course not!" Woody exclaimed.

Whatever they said made Genesis' warmth disappear. Her footsteps retreated, her scent faded, until the door to the woodshop slammed close.

Destiny Jones' Playlist:

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