Rewriting Destiny Page 8

  Marshall finally gave a brief glimmer of a smile. “You’re right. I want to. I should do the open mic. But it’s hard when you have so many people who think they know what’s best for you. It’s hard when I know my dad will be so disappointed in me if I don’t focus on rugby and go on to have the career that he wants for me.”

  “I’ve never had that kind of pressure, I guess,” Kyle said. “No one really pushes me in that way. I have to do everything for myself. Other people have only ever disappointed me. I think you’re lucky to have a dad who cares that much about you.”

  Marshall tilted his head and said, “I appreciate the way he cares about me, but I’m not always sure that it’s really about what I want. He doesn’t listen to me. He’s had my life planned out since I was born. Before that, even. Sometimes I think it’s all about him wanting to have a rugby champion as a son.”

  “You’re so talented at rugby, so I understand where he’s coming from. You know that you’ll have the world at your fingertips if you go on to be a pro rugby player. He’s just trying to make sure that you can have the level of success that you deserve.”

  Marshall’s expression immediately changed. His eyebrows creased and he pursed his lips. “You sound like you’re taking his side on this. Weren’t you just the one who told me to go after what I want and not listen to anyone else?”

  “I’m not taking anyone’s side. I just… it’s not important what I think right now. I came here to tell you something.” Kyle took his phone out of his pocket and showed Marshall the app for communicating with Paul. He explained that Paul was able to accurately predict a lot of different events. Marshall didn’t look like he completely understood what Kyle was saying, but Kyle had to try and warn him and make sure that he didn’t play in the intervarsity finals. “Paul hasn’t been wrong yet. He’s the reason I was able to pull off all of those impressive predictions at the Meyers twins’ party. He’s the reason I was so excited on the rooftop the other day – he was able to earn me quite a bit of money on the stock market. I’m not supposed to talk about Paul with anyone, but… If he says there’s an extremely high chance that something will happen, it’s because he’s run the numbers thoroughly. That’s what I came here to tell you. I asked Paul to make a prediction about the match next week, and he says that something bad will happen to you. A really bad injury. He’s predicting it with a high level of confidence. I came here to warn you, and to tell you that you need to find a way to sit out the match. I don’t want anything to happen to you, Marshall.”

  Marshall sat silently throughout Kyle’s long explanation, an unreadable expression on his face. But as soon as Kyle finished talking, he could see that Marshall was angry with him. “Are you serious, Kyle? This is what you came to tell me? After confiding in you, telling you how much I need to be my own man, you’re here telling me to listen to you because your computer program says it’s dangerous to play the match?”

  “It’s not just dangerous, and Paul isn’t just a computer program…”

  “Paul? It’s really silly to talk about this program like it’s a person. And then to use it to try and tell me to drop out of the intervarsity finals, especially after everything I just told you…”

  “I thought you didn’t want to play rugby anyway. Why are you getting so upset about this? You were just willing to throw away your entire rugby career over an open mic night. Now that I’m telling you you’re very likely to be injured during the match, it gives you an even better excuse to drop out.” Kyle tried to hold himself back, but Marshall’s harsh tone had caught him completely by surprise and put him on the defensive.

  “I don’t want an excuse, Kyle. Do you know how arrogant you sound right now? Dragging me all the way out here to tell me that, just like everyone else, you know what’s best for me, that I should just do what you tell me to because an app on your phone tells you so. If you can’t see how insulting that is, how belittling it is, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Figures!” Kyle exclaimed, anger welling up inside of him, ready to boil over. How could Marshall be so difficult when Kyle was just trying to help him? “I go out of my way, and just because you don’t trust in the science and see the bigger picture, you make me out to be some kind of monster! I’m trying to help you here, Marshall. I don’t want to see you hurt. I have no idea why you’re overreacting like this. If you only listen to reason, you’ll see that you don’t need to be so… insolent!”

  Marshall stood up from the table, his face red and his eyes wide. “You know, I was willing to overlook the way you acted because I really wanted to be close to you. You were supposed to be... Even in high school, you looked down on all of the rest of us, using your big, fancy words and acting like we were all stupid because we weren’t geniuses like you. I was willing to look past the way you always tried to make other people feel small so that you could feel bigger, because I thought you really cared about me. But this is a step too far, Kyle. I’m not just some number in your program that you can predict.”

  “Fine!” Kyle said. He realized that he and Marshall had made a scene in the coffee shop, and the few students who were there had their eyes glued to the scene of the argument. Kyle lowered his voice: “I guess you’ve made it clear that you don’t want my help. I don’t have the time or energy for this kind of thing again. First you kiss me, twice, and then you won’t even listen to me when I’m trying my best to help you. If I don’t know what to expect from you, then it’s not worth it. I’ve been nothing but upfront with you, and you’ve been taking me for a ride because you can’t decide what you want.”

  Marshall rushed out of the coffee shop, leaving the room in stunned silence. Kyle was reeling, thinking of a million things he could say if he rushed after Marshall, but he decided that perhaps it was better to just stay away from Marshall. He was too complicated for Kyle’s liking.

  Chapter 13

  The next day saw cheerful greetings and idle chatter between the guys on the Ridgemont rugby team. Marshall and Reinhardt stood next to the bus with the Ridgemont University logo painted in purple and white on the side. The rugby team members were packing their bags in the bus’s luggage compartment just as the early morning sun was peeking out over the mountains surrounding the Ridgemont Valley. Marshall was still feeling conflicted after his argument with Kyle the night before. Even if Kyle was right, and he was in danger at the finals of the intervarsity tournament, Kyle’s arrogance had completely put him off. The way that Kyle acted like Marshall was stupid, like he would never understand what Kyle was talking about but should just trust him anyway, was infuriating. Marshall was happy for the chance to get away from everything for a few days and just focus on training. His father and Kyle were each trying to drag Marshall in a different direction, each putting pressure on him for different reasons. He just needed space to think.

  “What’s wrong, Marshall?” Reinhardt asked, lifting a large bag into the compartment next to him as some of the other guys on the team broke out into singing the Ridgemont anthem. “You look a bit under the weather this morning. Is everything okay? Are you feeling the pressure of the finals already? We still have a week to train, you know?” Reinhardt’s gentle smile beamed at Marshall, but it didn’t have its usual comforting effect. His blond hair was gleaming in the early morning sunlight.

  “I’m okay,” Marshall lied. “Just a lot on my mind. Nothing I can’t work through on my own.”

  “Just let me know if you need to talk,” Reinhardt said, putting his large, powerful hand on Marshall’s shoulder.

  Marshall nodded, and felt compelled to talk to his friend about his worries. The inviting blue eyes were enough to make Marshall’s lips loose. He said, “My dad is just putting a lot of pressure on me. He’s been going through plays with me every night, trying to help me train and pushing me to be better. It’s getting a bit much.”

  Reinhardt pursed his lips, and Marshall could see the cogs in his mind turning. He responded: “He’s just looking out for you. With you
r talent, you have to work as hard as possible. That’s what we’re here for, right? We want to be champions, and that means pushing ourselves every day. I wish my dad cared about my game like that.”

  Marshall stepped back from the luggage compartment, facing the ground and fidgeting with his shirt: “It’s not that I’m ungrateful. I know he cares about me. But I’ve been wanting to try some new things lately. I love rugby, but I just think there could be something else that I’m good at. Something else that I might love too. I just want the chance to go for it. I want to finish the finals then spread out a bit.”

  Reinhardt’s expression was puzzled, his lip curled and his eyebrows creased. “What is it? Soccer? Cricket?”

  Marshall suddenly felt himself get very embarrassed, his cheeks flushed. He had tried talking to Reinhardt many times before, but it hadn’t gone well. If Reinhardt was truly his friend, he should have been able to confide in him with anything. Right? Marshall said, in a low voice: “There’s an open mic night at JJ’s next week. I’m thinking of signing up for it.”

  Reinhardt’s reaction was sudden and cut like a knife. He laughed raucously, but stopped himself when he noticed that Marshall wasn’t laughing with him. “Are you serious? That’s completely out of left field here. I didn’t mean to laugh if you’re being serious. It’s just so… unexpected. I didn’t even know you can sing. Why have I never heard you sing before? Or are you just pulling my leg?” The smile hadn’t totally escaped Reinhardt’s lips yet, and Marshall felt completely dejected.

  “Never mind,” Marshall said. “It’s not important. Let’s just get on the bus. Coach will be annoyed if we dawdle.” Marshall walked past Reinhardt, averting his eyes as he followed Coach Barker towards the door of the bus. His heart sunk like lead and he felt like he was a million miles away from everyone even though he was surrounded by his teammates.

  Reinhardt rushed after Marshall, saying: “I’m sorry if I came off as rude, Marshall. It’s just… Now’s not really the time to be getting involved with something new. You have a lot to lose if you don’t stay focused on your rugby career. Especially now. You know Quinton is gunning to be captain of the team. My advice is to stay the course, keep working as hard as you have been. One day when you’re a famous rugby player, you can pursue singing or whatever. But for now, you’re right where you need to be.”

  Marshall just shrugged at Reinhardt and continued to walk towards the bus’s entrance. Reinhardt, even though he cared about Marshall, would never be able to understand. No matter how hard Marshall tried to explain. He was as committed to rugby as Marshall’s father, Lionel, and that was all they could see in Marshall’s future.

  As he approached the entrance to the bus Marshall noticed Quinton standing with another student. The other student was scrawny and wore a collared shirt and large glasses, a guy who looked to be a bit older than Marshall was. Marshall recognized him as one of the students at the Academy, someone he crossed paths with sometimes when he went up to his rooftop hideaway. Why was Quinton hanging out with a master’s student from the Academy, especially this early in the morning and just before they left for the rugby retreat? Marshall frowned and decided to ignore it. Besides, Marshall had been hanging out with one of the students at the Academy a lot recently as well. And no one was questioning him about it.

  Thoughts of Kyle were still leaving Marshall with an empty feeling in his stomach.

  He walked onto the bus and the other guys were chanting and in high spirits. Reinhardt was right behind Marshall and sat down near the front of the bus, motioning for Marshall to sit next to him. Marshall tilted his head and said, “I just want to be alone for a while, maybe catch up on some sleep during the drive. I’m just going to sit at the back and stretch my legs, okay?”

  Reinhardt looked hurt, but nodded. Marshall felt guilty because he knew that Reinhardt meant absolutely no harm, but the way that Reinhardt reacted to hearing about Marshall’s love of singing was still hard to swallow. He felt completely alone in that moment, like there was no one to turn to. Not even Kyle, the guy who had been flooding Marshall’s thoughts for the past few days, could offer any comfort. He went to the back of the bus and found an empty seat where he could sit in silence. He put his bag on the seat next to him and took out his notebook and pen, pulling his headphones over his ears and relaxing into the calming music he loved to listen to when he needed to escape. Marshall scanned through the pages of his notebook, reading through the deeply personal lyrics of the songs he had written over the past few days. Songs about how he felt like an outsider, songs about wanting to escape… And in each song, there were hints of that guy who was turning Marshall’s life upside down, the guy he had developed feelings for years ago and who was now back in his life, full force, making him feel like even more out of place. Why hadn’t Marshall just told Kyle how he felt about him that day when they walked home from school together? Why hadn’t he allowed himself to step off the beaten path?

  Even though Marshall had the earphones over his ears, he could still hear the raucous chants of his teammates. He tried his best to ignore them and put pen to paper, pouring his heart onto the page. He became lost in his own thoughts, finally feeling some release after holding on to so much tension over the past few days. The lyrics flowed from him, and he could feel emotion pooling inside of him, rising to the surface.

  But the spell was quickly broken. Marshall’s notebook was yanked out of his hands forcefully. He felt his body freeze in shock and gasped loudly as he pulled the earphones from his head. In front of him, with a large, menacing smile, stood Quinton, holding Marshall’s notebook and reading the words he had just put to paper.

  “What are you doing?” Marshall demanded, hearing the laughter of the other guys. Marshall could see Reinhardt jump from his seat and rush to the scene. “Give it back to me, Quinton!” Marshall shouted, his voice so forceful that it made many of the guys around him fall silent.

  Quinton’s smile was plastered on his face, and the bus became even more hushed by those curious to see how the scene would play out. Every set of eyes zoned in on Marshall and Quinton. Quinton said: “What do we have here? Writing a love letter to someone?”

  “It’s private, Quinton! Just give it back.” Marshall’s cheeks filled with heat in an instant, and he could feel his shoulders tense.

  “We’re a team, Marshall,” Quinton said tauntingly. “We’re supposed to share everything, right?”

  Marshall’s eyes scanned the bus, trying to see if Coach Barker was present or if he had taken his car, hoping for someone to help him stop Quinton. He couldn’t see Coach Barker anywhere. Reinhardt was fussing near the front of the bus, shouting at Quinton, but other guys were blocking his way.

  Quinton spoke again, his voice even more confident and booming across the bus: “Let’s see what we have here… I waited too long to tell you how I feel, and now we’re drifting apart… Who are you writing this about, Marshall?”

  Marshall was seething, speaking through his teeth as he saw red: “Give it back to me now, Quinton. Or else…”

  “Or else what?” Quinton retorted. “You’ll write a poem about me?”

  Marshall felt his mind go completely numb with rage, and before he knew what was happening he was on his feet, rushing towards Quinton. Other guys were trying to hold him back, telling him to calm down, but Quinton’s bitter, sharp laughter was all he could hear.

  “Let him go, guys,” Quinton said, and when Marshall reached him and tried to grab his notebook, Quinton held it behind his back. “Is this why you’ve been so off your game lately? Too busy writing poems? Are you a poet now?”

  Marshall didn’t measure his words, and blurted out, “I’m a songwriter!” He realized his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth, and the entire bus burst into laughter. Marshall could see the look of embarrassment on Reinhardt’s face as he stood near the front of the bus. And turning back to Quinton, the sound of his laughter struck something deep inside of Marshall. He felt his entire body bec
ome filled with blind fury, and he barely registered what was happening before he had punched Quinton in the face and saw him fall to the ground.

  Immediately, the bus descended into silence, and the driver pulled over to the side of the road. Quinton stayed on the ground, and Marshall’s eyes darted around, skimming the faces that were looking at him with a mixture of shock and confusion. What had he done? All that he could think was: there was a zero-tolerance policy for violence. It meant immediate suspension from the team. Marshall wanted to disappear on the spot.

  Chapter 14

  Kyle sat in the lab reading through the new data from Paul. It had been a busy few days, and Paul was helping Kyle to build up a very strong portfolio of stocks. If Paul could keep up at that pace, Kyle wouldn’t need to apply for grants anymore - he could fund his own research. At the back of his mind Kyle felt guilty for using Paul in that way. Was it fair that Kyle had the ability to see into the future and use it for his own gain? What would happen if Kyle shared this ability with other people? He knew that he had to keep it to himself, that it would cause complete chaos if other people found out about Paul, but he wondered about whether it wouldn’t simply be better to shut down Paul for good.

  Kyle stretched out his arms above his head. The chair that he sat on at his lab’s desk was fast becoming less and less comfortable as the hours wore on. Kyle had been working on Paul almost non-stop since his confrontation with Marshall, trying to keep his mind busy when his emotions were so frazzled. It had been a crazy few days, and Kyle needed to focus on something that he could control, rather than letting his mind get taken over by another boy who might just break his heart. If Paul’s prediction about Marshall came true, and if Marshall didn’t listen to Kyle and drop out of the match… He couldn’t even bear to think about it. He didn’t want to see Marshall get hurt, but Marshall had made it crystal clear that he didn’t want to listen to Kyle. All of the things that Marshall had told him, about how he had already started having feelings for Kyle when they were in high school together, about how Kyle meant so much to him even when they had drifted apart… And what had Kyle done in return? Dismissed his dream of being a singer. Kyle cringed at the thought. Why had he reacted in that way when Marshall was clearly opening up to him? Kyle simply couldn’t understand how Marshall could give up on everything that he had built on the rugby team only to start all over again, to roll the dice and see if singing could really give him all of the things that he already knew rugby could. Why work so hard at something just to risk it not working out?