The Pull of Destiny by Hotcheri Page B

try not to fall asleep again. You of all people need a pass in this class.”
    Even though it
was true, it was still a low blow. People chuckled at my expense and turned to
face Mr. Floyd as he resumed teaching.
    I leaned back
in my chair, stretching lazily as I tried to ignore what seemed like
sledgehammers at work in my head. Doctor Khan had prescribed Tylenol for my
headaches. I was still waiting for the three I took in the morning to kick in,
but so far, no dice. I wondered what would get me first, the rupture or an
overdose of pain meds. Probably the last option.
    As Mr. Floyd
droned on and on (I’ve never met a guy that likes the sound of his own voice
more) I propped my head up using my hand and tried to look like I was paying
attention but my thoughts were elsewhere.
     
    Thanks to dad,
I got less than five hours sleep last night and it was showing. About half an
hour after my encounter with CiCi (who I thought was really weird, but her
awkwardness made me laugh till I had to wipe the tears from my eyes) dad came
to pick me up at the hospital, grumbling as usual about missed appointments and
the like. Doctor Khan was on hand to give him the news. He was impassive as the
doctor explained my situation to him, as well as telling him some things he
hadn’t told me (Lucas needs to come in for a checkup every week, we’ll discuss
surgery options next week, we’ll do the best we can regarding treatment) and I
wouldn’t have expected anything else from him. I mean, this is the same guy who
said my headaches were ‘nothing but your imagination. Now, man up!’
    So I was kinda
surprised to hear him bark “We’re getting a second opinion,” when Doctor Khan
was done explaining.
    Doctor Khan
blinked but managed to keep a smile on his face. “Of course, that’s your right,
Mr. Astor. But I’m sure you are aware that our facilities and technology is top
notch. Rest assured, our findings are correct. Your son has an aneurysm.”
    Dad nodded
brusquely, finally resorting to rudely talking over Doctor Khan as he tried to
tell him that it didn’t matter how many doctors and hospitals dad took me to,
the prognosis would still be the same.
    I was
embarrassed enough for all of us and I folded my gown neatly and handed it to
the pretty nurse, just to give me something to do. I was exhausted but dad was
arguing with a doctor? Even for him, that was stupid.
    “I understand
that he’s got an aneurysm, but what I don’t get is why you won’t operate
immediately,” dad blustered, sticking his hands in the pockets of his tailored
trousers and looking down at Doctor Khan.
    Taking a deep
breath, I stood up and walked to the bathroom. This was going to take forever.
     
    When I went
back into the room, dad and the doctor were glowering at each other. I didn’t
want to think about the rude things dad had to have said to Doctor Khan, whose
only fault had been finding the abnormality in my brain. Not that dad was
worried about that, oh no. He was probably just pissed because Doctor Khan had
tried to give him advice. Lucas George Astor Senior hated being given advice.
Even his own advisors knew not to ever open their mouths when he was around.
    I stared warily
at the two of them as I walked to the bed and sat down. Dad did not look happy,
but I didn’t care. All I wanted to do was go home, play with my little sister
for a while, take a shower and sleep for 10 hours straight. I felt I deserved
that much.
    Doctor Khan
moved closer to me, his hand extended.
    “Lucas, I’m
sorry I didn’t have better news for you,” he said, sincerity etched in his
face. “But I’m glad we caught the aneurysm before it ruptured and I’m hopeful
that the surgery will be a success. Please rest assured that we’ll do
everything in our power to get you through this.”
    “With the money
I’m paying you, you’d better,” dad growled behind him.
    I got to my
feet, blinking away the double vision as I shook the doctor’s hand.
    “Thanks,
Doctor,”