Inevitable (4 page)

I surveyed my work and went back to the kitchen. “Where do dirty rags go, Matt?”

“Laundry basket in the back,” he yelled from the drive-thru window. I dumped the rag and hurried to the front.

The smell of lemons hit me two feet from the counter, and I staggered.
No.
I cast my eyes sideways and saw Gabby making quick work of the people in her line. The lemony-smelling customer could go over there. I turned around, knocking my thigh against the prep station in my rush to escape.

“Hey, Jayne?” Gabby called. “I need a bathroom break. Cover, please?”

Before I could even think of an excuse, Gabby hurried past me. Fine. I went over to her line, taking a deep breath. Lemon-person was in my line, and Gabby could handle him when she got back.

“What are you doing?” Matt came over before I even started taking the first customer’s order. “You’ve got someone waiting at your register.”

“My register?” I didn’t know the registers were assigned. “Gabby had a longer line and she asked me to cover for her.”

“You don’t ever leave your register.” He turned to the customer in front of me, dismissing me without another glance. “What can I get for you?”

I stood there, debating my options. I could run out the door, and lose this job on my first day. Or I could keep my eyes down, pretend to be shy, take this person’s order and be done with it.

Matt shot me a dirty look, and I backed away. Option number two it would be.

I shuffled back to my register, not lifting my eyes. I knew from the citrus scent that pervaded the air around me that the person hadn’t left. “What can I get for you?” I stared at the plastic covering the register keys.

“Can I have a grilled Swiss sandwich on a cheese bagel and some potato wedges, please?” The customer’s tenor voice and rich English accent washed over me, melting me to the front of the register. I gripped the sides, using all my will power not to look up. Someone with a voice that beautiful had to be incredibly handsome.

“Anything to drink?” I hoped he didn’t notice how my voice trembled.

“Orange Fanta. Thank you.” Even the way he pronounced ‘Fanta’ tasted like a delicacy in my mind.

I rang up his order and handed him the receipt, not trusting myself to speak again. I stared at his tanned hands as he took the paper and then handed me a credit card. Aaron Chambers. Curiosity got the better of me—that, and the desire to hear his voice again. “Are you visiting New Jersey, Aaron?”

“No.” I heard a smile in his voice. “My parents just moved here from Herefordshire. That’s in England, if you didn’t know.”

His parents. How old was he? My hand lingered with his card between my fingers. I was desperate to look at him. Almost desperate enough to accept whatever I might See. “And what are you going to do now that you’re here?”

“Jayne? That’s your name, right?”

Betrayed by the nametag. I nodded, staring at the letters embossed on his card.

“I bet you have pretty eyes.”

I felt my face grow warm. He was flirting with me! Oh, Satan, get thee behind me! I handed him back his card, then gathered up his food items and put them on a tray. “Thank you for choosing JT’s.”

“Thank you for serving me, Jayne.” My name sighed off his tongue, molding itself to the timbres of his voice. I listened to his footsteps die away, but only when the smell was gone did I look up.

Aaron from England sat facing me, his eyes down on his bagel as he unwrapped it. And yes, he was hot. I couldn’t see his eyes, of course, but his sharp cheekbones accentuated his strong jaw. He’d tamed his dark brown hair with gel, but a piece of it still swung in front of his chiseled features. I averted my eyes in case he should look my direction and instead admired his muscled physique. The short-sleeved blue polo showed off his biceps and golden hue. A soft sigh escaped my lips, and I shook my head. What a pity. He was definitely adorable.

I picked up my rag and wiped down the counter, waiting for Aaron to leave.

CHAPTER FOUR

“
J
ayne! Ja-ayne! JAYNE!"

I rolled my eyes and slammed my locker shut as Dana slid into the spot next to me. "What, Dana?"

Dana took a deep breath, her cheeks flushed under her sparkling blue eyes.

I raised an eyebrow, wondering what could have gotten her so riled. I’d seen her just before school started, and the only thing on her mind had been passing her statistics test. “I take it stats went well?”

She furrowed her brows. “What? Oh, that. Who cares? This is way more important. It involves a boy—more specifically, a
man
.”

“Oh.” I opened my bag, checking to make sure I had my calculus book. “Don’t you have enough men? What’s going on with college dude, anyway?”

She shrugged. “He introduced me to a friend of his. Haven’t heard from him since.” Dana didn’t sound too let down.

“Is friend cute?”

“Jayne! You’re so not listening to me!”

“Sorry.” I started pushing my way through the hall. Dana kept step with me. “I’m not into guys right now, Dana.”

“Please don’t tell me this is about Stephen,” she groaned. “You’ve been heartbroken over him since he broke up with you. And then you don’t return his call? I don’t think you have room to complain.”

For a moment I paused, my thoughts torn between the green-eyed lacrosse player and the mysterious boy from yesterday. Thinking of the former brought a tangible ache to my chest, while thinking of the latter brought such a tingle of excitement that it very nearly drowned out the ache.

“I knew it.” Dana’s voice was soft in my ear. “You’re just pretending to be over him. Because you’re afraid of getting hurt again.”

Afraid. Scared. Chicken. Dana knew me too well. I started walking again.

“Okay, so you don’t care about guys. I still do. Don’t make me suffer, Jayne! I’m dying to share details with you!”

I let a smile touch my lips. “All right, fine. What boy in our school has suddenly turned into a mature adult and become worthy of your attention?”

Dana hooked her arm through mine and let out a contented sigh. “No, Jayne. There’s a Benny at our school. And he is divine.”

“Benny” was the local term for an outsider, someone not from Forked River. I stopped and drew back, studying her face. “He just moved here?”

“Yes.” Dana gave a dreamy sigh. “And he looks exactly like Christopher Reeve—you know, in the Superman days.”

It couldn’t be him. I felt my heart tumble under my ribcage, and I didn’t know which emotion hit me stronger: fear or anticipation. “O-oh yeah?”

“And Jayne, he has an accent.” Dana closed her eyes and snuggled close to me. “The sexiest accent you ever heard. He’s definitely not American.”

“What color were his eyes?”

Dana’s eyes popped open. “What do you care? You don’t even like boys.” She slid into her spot at our shared calculus table.

I pulled my chair up next to her. “I’m just curious. I mean, how much like Christopher Reeve does he look?”

“Oh, like exactly. Only younger. He’s got those crystal blue eyes, if that’s what you want to know.”

I nodded and opened my book, pretending to have lost interest.

But inside a storm raged. I was jealous. Jealous that Dana could look into those eyes and have nothing happen, other than a swoon of ecstasy. I had to admit this guy had captured my interest.

Mr. Keuhl called the class to attention, and Dana whispered, “I’ll point him out to you if I see him.”

I gave a bob of my head, eyes still on the book. That wouldn’t happen. If I even smelled lemons, I ran the other way. I had my classes set up carefully; only two of them had people who triggered my Sight, and I sat as far away from those people as possible. The first week of school had been a bit crazy as I tried to rearrange my classes, but at least the office had cooperated with me.

Dana leaned toward me, about to whisper something else, when Mr. Keuhl turned around and glared at her. Slumping back in her seat, Dana hissed, “We’ll talk more at lunch.”

I didn’t bother answering. It was second period, and I still had to get through two more periods before lunch. Not that I minded. I enjoyed English, and my teachers treated me like a prodigy because I actually did the homework.

The bell rang, and Dana and I joined the throng of anxious students trying to get out of the classroom.

“See ya at lunch,” Dana said, popping a Dum-Dum into her mouth. “Wonder where Hottie is now?”

Several girls in the hall glanced back at Dana before whispering together and moving on.

“Looks like you’re not the only one who’s noticed him. Watch out,” I warned.

“From those girls?” Dana glanced over her shoulder. “They’re more likely to be the Lacey Township murderer than boy competition.”

“What?” I wrinkled my nose at her, perplexed. “Where did that come from?” The afore-mentioned girls might have claws under their manicures, but they sure weren’t murderers.

“Oh, you must not’ve heard. There was another murder last night. In the Pine Barrens.”

“Another murder?” I shook my head. “People get lost out in the Pine Barrens all the time.” I pictured the dense cedar forest just west of us. “Probably got dehydrated or something.”

“Right. And then slit her own throat?”

I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. I knew death, and I knew people went before their time. But murders? “That doesn’t happen around here.”

“Of course not. We don’t get cute guys from foreign countries either, and yet... there’s one here.”

I shifted gears with Dana, my mind already on the new kid. “Well, good to know you’re interested. I’ll steer clear.”

“Who even said I was interested?” She shrugged. “I just like looking.”

We both laughed and then turned down different hallways. I ran my fingers along the painted white brick. Dana had no idea how easy her life was. This whole Sight thing totally ran mine. How unfair.

I daydreamed my way through history, a class that didn’t require any more of my attention than a few devoted hours right before exams.

I opened my English folder on the way to fourth hour, just to make sure my outline was there for our final research project. I’d already started researching and nearly had my first draft finished, but the teacher only wanted to see the outline today. The topic I had chosen, motifs in Shakespearean tragedies, was so open-ended that I could have outlined forever. I shouldn’t have any problems hitting the twenty-page mark.

The lemon scent caught me by surprise as I was about to enter the classroom. I froze in the doorway, eyes on my outline, afraid even to look up. What if I made eye contact with whoever it was?

But I knew who it was. English was not one of the classes I had to worry about. Which meant somebody new was here.

My stomach muscles tightened, and I debated what to do. The scent grew stronger, and someone bumped my shoulder. “Oh, sorry.”

There was no mistaking that accent. I closed my eyes, my shoulder tingling where he’d bumped me.

“Hey, don’t I know you?” His footsteps paused and then came closer, the lemon getting stronger.

I drew in a hasty breath, turning my back to him before I opened my eyes. “Not feeling well. Sorry!” I fled down the hallway, my heart beating in my eardrums.

Great. Not only was he in my English class, but he wasn’t going to avoid me. Which meant I had to avoid him.

But first I had to go to the nurse’s office and pretend to be sick. Otherwise, I’d get marked truant.

I hung out with the nurse through fourth period, claiming to have horrible cramps. She gave me some medication and let me sit for half an hour until it kicked in. Then she sent me back to class.

I didn’t go, though. I slipped into the bathroom and waited it out. Dana was right. I was nothing but a coward.

At lunch I waited for Dana by the vending machine, our usual meeting place. I tossed an apple in one hand and fingered a bag of Doritos in the other. My usual mix. I definitely ate healthier on the weekends. Or at least, I ate more.

The line in front of the machines began to die down, and still no Dana. Where was she? I distinctly remembered her saying she’d talk to me at lunch.