Afterthought: A Sententia Short Story (The Sententia) (4 page)

What I
wasn’t
seeing was anything else directly before he was destined to be hit with the ball. Meeting Carter was what damned him, so to speak. Whatever it was that laid out our futures—God, fate, happenstance, I didn’t know—it was joining our volleyball game that sealed David’s.
If
it was sealed. I honestly didn’t know if I
could
change it. Maybe nothing I did would make a difference. Maybe this was something I needed to accept, and not just for David. Maybe even for—but no, I had to try. Not trying felt like giving up.

So I concentrated on those few seconds, memorizing as many details as I could in the hopes that I’d recognize it quickly enough for Carter to react. Our game was almost over. We both knew it was coming soon.

I still almost missed it.

What I forgot was the visions weren’t from
my
perspective. I’d never actually seen one play out in real life, not yet. But it seemed so close to me, like I was a part of it, that somehow I expected I’d be watching carefully from behind the action, just like I saw it in my mind. But that wasn’t it at all.

When the moment finally came, my back was to him.

And the ball David was trying to reach? Came from me.

Carter served. It wasn’t his best skill, but he was good enough to keep us on our toes. That serve was one of his best, with a spin on it I didn’t 
even 
think was intentional. My teammate barely handled it, with an awkward hit that flew toward the net. I dove to my right, making solid contact and sending the ball back across the court behind me. As I was falling away from the action, I finally recognized what I should have all along.

When Carter moved back into position after his serve, it completed the scene in the background of David’s death.

A strangled, “Now!” ripped its way out of my throat, half cut off as I landed hard on the ground and the rest of the air rushed out of my lungs.

He must have seen what was about to happen when I didn’t, because at almost the same time, Carter stepped forward, shouting, “OUT!”

I pushed myself up with a gasp for breath and a prayer.

And just saw the ball skidding out of bounds and down the sand. David’s chin smacked with a clack into the space where the ball should have been. Carter had Moved it in time—the ball missed David completely.

There was a moment of what felt like complete silence, where the world stood still and we all watched. I held the breath I’d greedily taken just seconds before.

With a groan, David rolled over. When he sat up, I tentatively exhaled. In my vision, that hadn’t happened, his sitting up—reality had diverged. He shook his head, sending blood flying from his chin into the sand around him, but no seizure. More seconds ticked by and still no seizure. Teammates knelt down to help David up and someone was calling for a lifeguard. Blood gushed from his chin, but otherwise, he seemed fine.

I locked eyes with Carter, who was as frozen as I was on his side of the net, and smiled.

We’d done it.

I almost couldn’t believe it.
We’d done it.
We’d saved him.

It wasn’t until one of Carter’s teammates, the only other girl playing, touched my arm and said, “You should probably get that looked at too,” that I realized blood was dripping from my elbow on to my foot. My adrenaline was running so high, I couldn’t even feel it.

Carter finally ducked under the net. He moved slowly, with a look of wonder on his face that probably would have confused the other players if they hadn’t been so distracted by all the blood and commotion. He kissed my forehead briefly and stepped behind me, enfolding me in his arms. I leaned back against him while I held my bleeding elbow. It was just a scrape I was sure would be fine. Maybe I’d have a little scar to remember this day I’d never forget anyway.

In my ear, Carter spoke, uncharacteristically struggling to find words. “We…I…I can’t believe…we
did it
.” He squeezed me tighter against him and I tilted my head back to kiss him quickly under his jaw. I could feel his pulse beating still fast behind my lips before I returned my attention to the scene on the ground. The lifeguard was holding a t-shirt to David’s chin—he’d need stitches for sure—and conferring with the Neanderthal. It turned out he was a volunteer paramedic. And maybe not as big a jerk as I thought.

I could just hear him saying, “…left eye is dilated more than the right…” and something about a possible concussion and how he should make sure the doctors looked into that. Behind them, one of the other guys was hurrying across the beach with a girl I knew from my vision was David’s girlfriend to take him to the hospital.

After he was finally helped to stand, David brushed himself off with the hand not now holding the shirt to his chin then stepped over to where we were standing. “Sorry, Lainey,” he said, wincing a little as he spoke, but smiling too. “I
swore
I had that! Don’t know what happened.”

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. I didn’t want to, but if I didn’t, I’d burst into tears. Happy ones, but still. “Definitely don’t worry about it!” I assured him. “We’d for sure have lost that point anyway. Worry about your head instead,” I tacked on at the end and Carter’s arms squeezed me the tiniest bit tighter. “Make sure you get that checked out, right?”

“You bet,” he said. He shook my and Carter’s hands with his free one. “Fun game though, guys, thanks. Sorry we didn’t get to finish.”

“No problem,” Carter said. “It just means we didn’t actually lose.”

At the same time I said, “Well, but I think we won by default then, right?” and we all laughed.

Neanderthal, who had a name I just couldn’t remember, had joined us and joined in the laughter too. Still laughing, he also shook Carter’s hand, saying, “You know you don’t have to call your girlfriend’s ball out when it’s on
their
side, right?”

Carter pumped his hand—hard—one more time and released it. “Just trying to throw them off,” he said and I could tell he was grinning. He
hadn’t
needed to yell; that wasn’t how our gifts worked. But in the moment, undoubtedly he’d been talking to the ball anyway, willing it out with his voice at the same time as his mind. He did the same thing at bowling and it was how I knew he was cheating. We’d cheated something today, too, but I didn’t think anyone would mind.

Neanderthal gestured to look at my elbow and I let him. He examined the scrape, bent it back and forth once, and released it. “And you. I’d have shouted a lot worse than ‘Ow!’ if I’d hit the deck like that. You’re pretty damn tough, Princess.” I'd have bristled at the nickname, but this time when he said it, it really did sound more like an endearment. Maybe he was only a
partial 
jerk.

“Thanks,” I replied, and meant it.

“It’ll hurt, but a quick dip in the water to clean it out and a band-aid is all that should need. You can handle it. And good game, thanks.”

He left as the rest of our teammates dispersed, everyone saying their thanks and goodbyes. The beach, too, was emptying as the bright sun of the day faded toward twilight. Carter and I stood together for a moment longer, watching everyone, including David, disappear back to their own lives.

The roadside picnic
area where we stopped to eat felt quiet without the crashing of waves in the background. Carter and I were quiet too. A few cars were still scattered about, but it felt like just the two of us, alone with the sky and the trees.

I knew from previous visits our fresh seafood dinners, straight from the ocean to the local roadside restaurant that fried it up perfectly, would be delicious, but I was barely hungry. I picked at my oysters while we sat on the back of the car, as we had many times before, hatch up, watching the stars and darkness emerge. I was going to be late for curfew, which barely mattered, but tonight even if it did, I didn’t care.

Everything about me felt on edge, tingling, overwhelmed by all that had happened. The beauty of the day might have been enough to make it memorable and Carter’s declaration about college enough to make it special. But those things were far eclipsed by the adrenaline of saving a
life. That
made it unforgettable, maybe even life-changing.

I’d done it.
We’d
done it, Carter and I, together. If there were consequences, I couldn’t see them. Couldn’t even imagine them. This was what I’d dreamed of doing,
promised
myself I’d do, from the moment I understood what my gift was. Carter too, I could tell, was buzzing from it all, an electric current charging the air around us.

I should tell him now
, I thought.
Tell him about—
the vision, the one that mattered more than any others, even today’s. I’d thought about telling him so many times since the night I’d glimpsed it, but if there was such a thing as a perfect time, this was it. Maybe our victory had even given me the courage.

We’d finished our dinners, were just sitting side by side on the edge of the car, legs and arms touching, listening to the soundtrack of night. Crickets and other insects sang to us from the privacy of the trees. Though we should have a long time ago, neither of us was ready to leave.

Before I could find the words to start my confession, Carter reached over and grabbed my hands. He seemed about to say something and I waited, watching, while he too searched for words that wouldn’t come. His blue eyes were close to silver in the near-darkness, and they held mine in a moment that stretched out forever, like the silence between heartbeats. Finally, he decided he didn’t need words to tell me what he wanted to say.

He kissed me and my heart started again, fast and hungry. For this, my appetite returned.

It wasn’t the first time we’d made out in the back of the car. Hell, that was the reason I kept the seats folded down. I said it was so I could pick up stuff for Fenton’s but that was a lie. It was basically where we finished every Sunday night, and where I reminded myself that no matter what, I wasn’t losing my virginity in the back of a car, even one as nice as mine.

I thought too much, about everything, all the time. I knew this. It was
why
I still had to worry about losing my virginity at all. Though my body and my heart had been for a long time, my head still wasn’t ready.

Tonight, however, I
wasn’t thinking
.

With my whole self still humming from the events of the day, and the smell of happiness—a combination of coconut, salt, and sunshine—clinging to both of us, I was nearly delirious. The first touch of Carter’s lips to mine and I forgot every thought I’d ever had. All I wanted to do was
feel.

And it felt
good.
I knew Carter had it too, this feverishness of abandon and desire. His skin was warm from the sun and heated more every minute we touched. I wanted to touch
all
of it. His t-shirt disappeared as if I’d willed it away, and my fingers trailed down his strong back as he kissed my mouth, my neck, my throat. From there, two tiny pulls of the strings and for the first time, my bikini top was gone. Forgotten. Kisses fell in places they’d never been before.

My shorts seemed unnecessary and slipped off like I’d never been wearing them. Carter’s body covered mine, warm and ready. I gasped at the feel of him, and when his fingers slipped under my bikini bottoms, I thought I might actually die from wanting.

I wasn’t thinking at all, not about where we were, or how uncomfortable and cramped the car really was, or the way my hands were tugging the drawstring of Carter’s shorts, inching them down. Not about protection, which we probably didn’t even have. Not about the way the stars had grown so bright they seemed almost blue.

And flashing.

A whoop of siren shattered the air around us and woke up my brain.

We were busted.

I’d never been
more embarrassed, holding Carter’s t-shirt over my chest while the policeman shined his spotlight on us. Carter sat up so fast, righting his shorts and hiding me behind him in the same motion, he hit his head on the roof. He kept running his hand over the spot, further messing up his hair. My face burned worse than it had at all in the sun.

At that moment, I imagined
all
sorts of consequences I’d been unable to grasp earlier in the night. Trespassing after hours. Public indecency.
Pregnancy
. Getting arrested almost seemed insignificant compared to that last one.

But all the cop said was, “You kids were just on your way home, right?” I thought he might have been trying not to smirk.

“Yes, sir,” Carter said, nodding and standing up like getting ready to leave was exactly what he’d been about to do. I envied how calm he was, despite the tension I could see in his shoulders and his smile.
I
could barely manage to breathe.

“That’s what I thought,” the policeman said, shining his light briefly on me and then up the parking lot a ways before lowering it. “Miss, I’m going to turn around up there and then follow you out.”

“Thank you, sir,” I called as he rolled up his window and drove to the end of the lot to wait for me to get dressed.

I handed Carter his t-shirt and found my bikini top and shorts, slipping them back on in the dark.

Later
, I’d think of it as the almost-night. The night we almost. The night I almost told him. The night I almost would have regretted after the day I’d never forget. But what did almost-regret matter when you were in definite-love?