Page 2 of Always Meant To Be

I'm just glad Andrei hates libraries, giving me the chance to sneak out the back and then sneak back in later.

Growing up, I wished I could be a bumblebee or a butterfly just so I could fly away, and the urge to run gets stronger every day. My life is not the one I want. My father is the most feared Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, and when he sees fit, he'll marry me off.

If I were a boy, I would have succeeded my father as Pakhan, but instead, I disappointed both my parents by being born a girl.

Bright side, being the second-born child means I'm not highly sought after for an alliance; my sister is, and right now, everyone is focused on her and who she'll marry within the next year. That's how it needs to stay so I have enough time to leave.

I have one year of high school left, after which I can go out of state for college, away from my family.

I look toward my sister's guard, Boris, who seems bored out of his mind, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re stuck on bitch watch for years, and yes, I think my sister has been a bitch all her life.

Our cook, Celia, who's been in our family longer than Mama, mentioned how my sister didn't want a sibling; she preferred being the center of attention even at the tender age of three. Apparently, the nice scar I have on my thigh was from her stabbing me when I was a baby.

She could have killed me.

She's now nineteen, just as awful as she was growing up. Poor Boris has been stuck with her since one of my father's men “disappeared.” My sister managed to get out of his sight for ten minutes after begging him to play hide and seek when she was ten, and that cost the man his life because she ran outside to the woods behind our house, knowing it was forbidden.

"Boris, would you like a coffee?" I ask in his direction, knowing my sister won't even bother.

His brown eyes come my way, and he gives me a slight smile and a nod, the corners of his eyes crinkling. I smile back, turn to the barista, and confirm, "And two black coffees, please."

The woman smiles and takes my money before giving me my change, which I happily place in the hospital donation box for sick kids.

Feeling eyes on me, I look at my sister. She stares daggers but I just smirk, then give her next victim a smile, noticing him looking between my sister and me. I head to a table near the back while silently hoping Talen doesn't go to school Monday with an axe to grind against her, using me as a target.

It wouldn’t surprise me if she had some form of STD.

I ignore everyone in the café and take a seat, grabbing the book I’m reading for English Lit out of my bag. Andrei sits at a table three down from me, giving me my space. We both know I didn't want to come out, but my mother refused to allow me to leave my sister on her own, even though she's two years older than me.

When I declined, expressing I had a lot of work to do, she smacked me while Liliya recorded it on her phone.

It's safe to say I did as I was told. There are only so many times I can explain my bruises to people at school, a school my father didn't want me to go to, until I mentioned how I'm not the important one. He softened and agreed. I didn't question his look, and I'm never going to, because I get to enjoy being normal.

I mean, I don't have any friends, but that doesn't matter to me because I get to be normal for six hours in a place where my sister doesn't hurt me, and my mother doesn't look at me like she wishes I had different genitals.

I hear my sister's high-pitched giggle, which goes through me, and I look up to see her bending over the counter, gentlytracing the guy's arm while Boris shakes his head from a table nearby.

Knowing we'll be here for a while, I sigh and open my book, determined to get my homework done.

I can't fail. My father made it a condition of my attending school, even a private one. I was to take all AP classes, and not fail.

So far, I've kept to it. If I pass all my exams, my father will allow me to attend college and get my bachelor's degree in teaching.

My dream is to work with and help kids.

One can hope, anyway.

Looking at my sister one last time, I grab my pen and get to work, not once looking up from my books, even when the barista brings my drink and muffin, only mumbling a “thank you” to her.

I will not fail, and I will get to go to college; I have to.

Romeo – Age Twenty-Four

I grin at my brother Antonio as he tries to get the barista's number for the eighth time since we came here.

Shaking her head, the cute girl gives him a shy smile before running off to the counter. I chuckle as my brother's green/blue eyes follow her.

"Give it up, Antonio. We both know you must marry the Greek princess, and that barista is not a one-and-done; she has innocent written all over her," I comment, checking my phone for the fifth time, gritting my teeth with frustration.