Destiny Gift (The Everlast Trilogy) - By Juliana Haygert Page 0,2
talk much about it. Melancholy, I guess. But I had found out a thing or two. For example, thirty years ago the subway system wasn’t under severe control. It didn’t have x-ray machines and soldiers patrolling each ride, their weapons apparent.
Just then, an officer entered our car. His gaze was suspicious and his hand rested over the gun on his belt.
At the end of the subway car, two guys weaved and swayed into one another and held telltale brown bags covering what had to be bottles of booze. How couldn’t the officer see them? They were obviously underage.
The guys eyed me and whispered. Goose bumps tingled along my spine, and I put my hand inside my purse, clutching my pepper spray. I left my hand there—my palm sweating because of my increasing nervousness—and was ready to act.
Meanwhile, the old lady babbled about life thirty years ago. How great it was to be able to travel around the world, to swim in the ocean, to go to school unafraid, and so on.
The West Fourth Station grew closer. I acted cool and calm, as if my stop were still far away. After eyeing me, I was sure the whispering and chuckling meant the drunken guys plotted to come after me, and I hoped to thwart their plans.
Relief rushed through me when the door of the subway opened at the station. I dashed to the door and jumped out right before it closed again. I hurried up to street level and didn’t look back once, afraid of what I might see.
But I didn’t need to see, I could hear them—their feet pounding against the slick concrete and their creepy laughs.
I zigzagged through the rough-looking crowd, avoiding eye contact with anyone, but brushing my shoulders against unwelcoming strangers, and hurried toward the gates of the university, trying to stick with streets where the lamps weren’t broken. Why wasn’t the subway station closer to NYU’s gates? Four blocks under such conditions was too far.
Even on the run, I couldn’t help but look around me and shudder.
Skyscrapers taken by criminals. Other buildings in decay and in danger of collapsing. Executive office buildings, schools, churches, and most business—stores, coffee shops, restaurants, theaters, bookstores—kept their heavy doors locked all day. Customers had to ring the bell and wait to be allowed in.
I crossed a street and a speeding car missed me by a few inches. I froze for a second, my heart pounding as I looked at the usual armored wheels and black windows.
Resonating laughter propelled me into action, and I forced my legs to pump like they never had before.
I was so close.
So were they.
I slammed to a stop in front of the building across the street from NYU. Glowing as if it had a silver backlight, the number eight overwhelmed my sight. Get a grip, Nadine. I shook my head to clear my insane vision and caught sight of the guys only a few steps from me.
My heart rate burst into double time and I ran across the street.
From my pocket, I fished out my student card and barely paused as I swiped it on the gate’s lock. I slipped in and the gate closed behind me. A relieved breath escaped my lips.
A guard emerged from the side cubicle. “Everything all right”—he glanced at the computer monitor—“Miss Sterling?”
“Yes, now it is,” I answered. The two guys glared at me through the gates they couldn’t cross.
“The next period will start in seven minutes,” the guard informed me.
I didn’t bother telling him I didn’t have class that afternoon. “Yes, yes, thanks.”
Taking deep breaths to calm myself, I turned and walked farther into campus, while chanting in my mind that I hadn’t seen the number eight shining—again—or that I hadn’t almost been robbed, or worse.
I shuddered, pushing away the terrible images of the possible things that could have happened. I hugged myself and muttered, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
Chapter Two
“Espresso at table six,” my coworker Adam said. He shoved the tray over to me, peering myopically through too-heavy lenses, then wiped his hands on his buttoned up shirt. “A chocolate cupcake too.”
Rolling my eyes, I took the tray, an espresso, and one of the cupcakes.
Frowning, I went to serve table six. My frown dissolved once I saw Cheryl waiting for me in her usual spot. I’d met her on my first day in New York, about nine months ago. At the time, she’d also been a newcomer, and we’d hit it off instantly despite our age difference.