Destiny's Fates

The knock on the door woke me up, that and my 2-year-old pomsky Cherry licking my face. I groaned, rolled over and looked at my phone. “10 am! Are you freaking kidding me!!! Who is knocking on my door at 10 am on a Saturday?” I groaned. Cherry responded with a sharp “yip yip,” almost as if to say, “I know Mom, we were supposed to stay in bed at least another hour.” I rolled out of bed, and stood there for a second, debating if I really wanted to answer the door. The knock came again, reminding me that, sadly, this wasn’t a dream. Cherry responded to the door “Yip Yip Yip!” “One second”, I called out, pulling my sweats on over my underwear and throwing on my old Cross-Country Hoodie. I ran my fingers through my hair and found the hair tie, at the bottom of what was the French braid I did last night. Walking out of my bedroom, I threw my hair up in a messy bun. I slowly unlocked the deadbolt, and then the handle. Why doesn’t my door have a freaking peephole? I pick up Cherry, so she wouldn’t run out the door, and open it, not sure what to expect on the other side. Frozen in fear is not exactly how I would describe my reaction to what, or rather who, was at my front door, just frozen. I must be dreaming! There is no possible way that these three guys know each other! How do they even know where I live??? “What...What...what are you all doing here?” Derrek cleared his throat. “Morning Love, do you think we could come in? It’s a bit chilly out here.” The “we” he was referring to was himself and two other guys from my past. All three of these guys I had a massive, maybe even obsessive, crush on at one point. I met Derrek Smith in middle school, in Washington. He was this shy, nerdy kid who was adopted from Brazil. Now, he was this 5’ 11” man. Still kind of skinny, but with the same shaggy brown hair and chocolate eyes I remember dreaming about from 5th to 8th grade. His arms were muscular, and his chest must be too since the Star Wars t-shirt he was wearing was a little tight. He was wearing a pair of grey jogger sweatpants with the t-shirt. The second person in the group was James Howell. I met him in High School in 8th grade when my dad moved us to Texas. The sweet, southern red-headed gentleman who was always towering above me, having been over 6’ since he was 12. His blue eyes reminded me of the ocean, deep and deadly. That was what first attracted me to him. He was dressed in jeans with stains on them and the same Cross-Country hoodie I was wearing. We were on the team together back then. James was supposed to go to the same college as me, but right after graduation he decided to follow in his late father’s footsteps and became a police officer. Finally, Christopher Bradley, Chris to his friends. I met him at college in Tennessee. He and I lived in the same dorm, so we saw a lot of each other. Also, we were both pre-med, so all our classes for the first two years of school were the same. We suffered through 8 AM Organic Chemistry Lab together and spent several Friday nights studying for exams on the coming Monday in the dorm common room. I think that was when I fell in love with him, watching him pour his heart and soul into his dream career. Chris was just a tad taller than me, but way smarter. He had this wavy dirty blonde hair that he kept styled. Always dressing for the job he wanted, even when coming to see someone he hadn’t seen in 2 years; wearing khakis and an emerald-green polo shirt that matched his eyes. “Sure, come on in. Can I get y’all anything to drink?” I lean down and gently drop Cherry, then open the door wider for the guys to come in. “I’ll take a cup of Joe if you have some Love.” “If she has some? Do you know who you are talking to Derrek? She lived off that stuff in college. I almost had to have an intervention when she got up to 4 cups a day.” Chris chuckled, “Coffee sounds amazing if it’s not too much trouble, Des.” “Same here Doll,” James muttered as he closed the door behind him. “I will put on a pot. Make yourselves at home.” I gestured to the living room, as I headed to the kitchen. What in the actual hell was going on?