Just Let Me Love You (Judge Me Not #3)(61)

The girl replies, “Yes, I think so. I’ve always heard that fate refers to the bad things that happen in our lives.”

“And destiny?” the instructor prompts.

“It’s the good stuff.”

“That is a commonly accepted belief,” the instructor concurs.

There’s some shuffling of papers.

“What it all comes down to,” the instructor continues, “is that every person’s life is destined for a certain path. We may not realize it, especially when it’s happening, but we will end up where we’re supposed to be.”

Wow. I think about my own life. I believe in concepts like fate and destiny. But, to my chagrin, I don’t feel as if either has ever touched my life. In some ways, I suppose my parents have prevented things from happening by the way they’ve structured everything for me. Still, I hold out hope that something that is “meant to be” will eventually occur. If that doesn’t happen, what will become of me? My biggest fear is that I’ll graduate from college next year—with my shiny, new business degree—and move right back to my hometown of Philadelphia. Maybe I’ll become an accountant, like my mom and dad. And maybe, like Mom and Dad, I’ll never really live.

“Ugh.” I place my face in my hands. I don’t want to be an accountant. I’d rather eat pocket lint, I swear. If I had my way, I’d much rather work as a writer, a journalist of some sort. I find joy in writing articles for the school paper. But, really, if I dare to dream big, I see myself as an investigative journalist. The kind that seeks out exciting stories, stories with an element of danger.

Who in the hell am I kidding? I’m play-it-by the-rules Essa Brant. “Let’s be real here,” I whisper.

Sighing, I return my attention to the instructor and her big words on fate.

“Remember,” she says. Her tone is so very serious, so very ominous. “Just because you think fate or destiny hasn’t yet guided your life in some noticeable way doesn’t mean it won’t happen. I promise you, my friends, you will end up where you’re supposed to be. And how can I say that with such certainty? The answer is simple: You can’t escape your destiny.”

Okay, so where will fate lead me? What is my destiny?

On a roll, the instructor goes on. “Things happen in our lives that are predetermined, whether we realize it or not. Often it’s a series of small events that slowly and methodically lead us to where we’re supposed to be. But sometimes it’s a big, cataclysmic event that changes the course of everything. Even so, you may not realize your life is changing at the time. Something may happen to someone you know, perhaps someone close to you. Their ‘something’ ends up affecting you. Your life is now altered; you’re set on a different path.” The instructor pauses, and then she says, “Think of this path as an inevitable detour of sorts.”

Everyone in the classroom is so quiet you’d hear a pin drop if someone were inclined to drop one. Guess everyone is deep in thought, wondering what “inevitable detour” is in store for them. And how will this “detour” alter their lives. God knows that’s what I’m thinking.

“We have about ten minutes left,” the instructor announces, breaking the trance she was holding everyone in, including me. “Are there any questions, class?”

A lively Q&A ensues, and I know it’s high time I get up off my ass and go home. But I can’t leave, not yet. I need a minute to take in all I’ve heard. It’s like when someone puts something in your head, and that’s all you think about. Now, I can’t help but imagine an inevitable detour of my own. Maybe I should take charge and make one happen next week. I could defy my parents and go to New York City with Haven. It might be worth my parents’ ire to finally venture out of the only state I’ve ever known. Not only would my bestie and I have a great time tearing up the town, but I’d be staying with Haven in her older brother’s apartment. And there’s a good chance that though Farren Shaw travels a lot for some crazy-secretive job he has, I’d finally have an opportunity to meet him. Possibly, I could even spend some time with him.

Gah. A thrill shoots through me at the thought of spending even a mere minute with Farren. Now there’s an inevitable detour I’d like to take. Much like his sister, Farren is gorgeous. He has the same raven-black hair, same model-perfect features, like full lips and high cheekbones. His eyes, however, are not aquamarine. They’re better; they’re a unique and stunning shade of green. Not that I’ve had the pleasure of viewing these stunning green eyes in person. Only in pictures have I seen them, since, sadly, I’ve never actually met Farren. He’s not around much. He was in the military for years, special ops according to Haven. And though he was discharged over a year ago, he still spends a good deal of time in other countries for his “work.” Consequently, he’s never visited Oakwood College campus. That’s why I’ve never met him. And that is why I’m so incredibly upset about New York. That would have been my chance. Travel or no, he’d have to stop home at some point.

Oh well. Guess I’ll have to continue to rely on pictures and short videos of Haven’s incredibly handsome brother to fuel my libido. And by fuel, I mean on all cylinders. I may not have much of an interest in sex, but I am still a woman. And, as a woman, I sense a man like Farren could change my mind on the sex-thing. He’s like some dream guy—tall, dark, and too handsome for words.