Inevitable (7 page)

Seconds before the tardy bell rang, Aaron walked in. He held his head high with a poise and confidence that belonged to royalty. His eyes darted around the room. I lowered my head, trying to make myself invisible.

“Hey, Aaron!” Poppy Miles flashed a smile and snapped her gum with a crack. “I saved a seat for you!” She scooted off the desk and patted a chair next to her.

If Poppy’s shirt were any tighter, her boobs would pop right out of it. Hmm. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that her name was Poppy. I rolled my eyes and wedged myself into a safe seat two rows back.

Ms. Seigfried’s words about Shakespeare’s deliberate mixing of comedy and tragedy floated around my ears. For once I couldn’t seem to concentrate. I watched Poppy scribble something in big, loopy letters and then pass the paper to Aaron. What did it say? Was she asking him out? He took the paper and wrote back with small, crooked writing. Poppy passed the paper over to her brunette cohort, Shannon, and the two girls exchanged a giggle. Then Poppy wrote something else and sent the paper back over to Aaron.

I bristled, wondering why I would feel the insane emotion of jealousy. From here I could see the curve of Aaron’s jaw, the way the dark brown hair fell over his forehead. His lemon odor drifted my direction, reminding me of why he was off limits.
Stop drooling
, I told myself.
You can’t have him.

Aaron’s shoulders tensed as if he were going to turn around, and I quickly looked down at my paper, going through the motions of taking copious notes. Oh, well. With girls like Poppy and Shannon chasing him, what would Aaron need with quiet old me? About as much as Stephen had, probably.

The bell rang, and I paused. Should I fly out as fast as I could, or should I wait until everyone had left and then file out?

I took too long to decide. I knew from the cloyingly sweet lemon smell mixed with musky aftershave that Aaron approached my desk. I worked hard to keep my eyes riveted on my books, which I carefully organized into my bag.

“Hey, Jayne.”

“Hey.”

Aaron crouched next to me, and for a moment the scent of his cologne overpowered the lemons. He smelled like evergreens and leather. I inhaled, relishing the scent.

“Do you have lunch next?”

“Yes.” I pulled out my pens and pencils and began rearranging them. “But I’m meeting my best friend, Dana. We like to have a private lunch everyday. You know, girl time.”

“Oh?” I heard a smile in his voice. Again I fought the urge to look at him. Did he have dimples? “And what are you going to talk about today?”

“We have some important things to discuss.”

“Any boys on the list?”

I felt my face flush.
As a matter of fact, yes. Two, to be exact.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I stood up, shouldering my bag and keeping my eyes trained in front of me.

Aaron reached out and moved my hand further down my backpack strap. “You’ll balance the weight better if you hold it down here.” His fingers lingered on mine, the thumb touching the back of my knuckles.

I tugged my hand free and walked out of the classroom, struggling to maintain a neutral expression. “Thanks.”

Poppy and Shannon waited outside the room. Poppy raised an eyebrow at the sight of me and whispered something to Shannon, who nodded.

Aaron leaned closer to me. I lowered my eyes, keeping them on his brown oxford shoes.

“Are you working tonight, Jayne?” he asked, his minty breath washing over my face. The English accent made the casual sentence feel formal and important.

Yes or no? For a moment I couldn’t remember. “Yes. Closing again.”

“Then I’ll see you tonight.”

I stood where I was, staring at the ground until his Oxfords disappeared around the corner. Poppy’s voice made me jump.

“Well, you don’t wait long, do you? Though I will admit, Aaron is a step up from Stephen.”

I looked at her and felt a flash of anger. Boobs and money, and she thought she ruled. I gave her a cool smile. “Don’t worry, sweets. Stephen’s up for grabs, if you were looking for leftovers.” A flicker of guilt pricked me for speaking so callously about Stephen, but it was for the greater good.

Poppy’s face turned red and she sputtered. I left before she could get her wits together and slam me with a rebuttal.

One thing was for sure. Aaron’s mere presence got my mind off last night’s vision.



“Let me get this straight.” Dana stared at me over her Reuben sandwich, her blue eyes wide. “Stephen asked you out—and you turned him down?”

“Yes, I’ve already said that. Then he—”

“You turned him down?”

She wasn’t ever going to let me finish. I brushed it off, anxious to tell her about Aaron. “Dana, I couldn’t go out with him. He would’ve dumped me again for someone else.”

“You don’t
know
that!” she shrieked.

I didn’t bother arguing with that. “He didn’t stick by me the first time. Why would he for another round?”

Dana groaned and put her head in her hands. “Jayne! Maybe he really was sorry! You should’ve given him a chance!”

“How’s your prom date coming along?” I asked, trying to steer the topic off of Stephen.

“No, no, we’re not done.” She held a hand up, palm out. “How did Stephen react?”

I tried to remember the exact order of events. “He seemed to think I was being melodramatic. He was trying to make a point, so he kissed me.”

“He
what
?”

The shriek again. I put a finger to my lips and shushed her. “Dana, hush. No need for everyone to know.”

“But Jayne! A kiss means something! He likes you!”

My finger pulled down on my lip and I couldn’t help remembering the taste of his mouth on mine. “Now he does. Wait and see. He won’t try again. We’ll see him at prom with a beautiful blond on his arm.”

“Jayne, I could cry.” Indeed, Dana’s mouth trembled. “Aren’t you just sick inside?”

“I would be, but...” I took a deep breath. The excited flutter bubbled up in my stomach again. Having a new crush could be quite intoxicating. “I think I might like someone else.”

This time, at least, she covered her mouth to muffle the squeal. “No wonder you turned him down! Why didn’t you say something? Jayne, you better tell me who it is, now!”

I felt a smile toying with the corners of my mouth. “Well, he’s new in school.”

“Aaron!”

Guessing games were no fun with Dana. I wrinkled my nose at her. “You could at least pretend not to know so I could draw out the suspense longer.”

“Jayne!” Dana grabbed my hand. “I can’t believe you have a crush on him! Where did you meet?”

I considered explaining how I’d met him at work and all, but opted for the easiest explanation. “He’s in my English class.”

“Wait. Do you have a crush on him just because he’s ‘safe’?” She made quotation marks with her fingers. “Because every other girl in school is crushing on him too?”

“No. That’s just my bad luck.”

A smile danced around Dana’s mouth. “Jaynie, this is great. This will really help you get over Stephen.”

“Uh-huh.” I played with my apple, picking at the peel. “I thought you kind of liked Aaron?”

“No way. He’s definitely hot, but you know I like my men older.”

“Any developments in that direction?”

“No.” She sighed and leaned back, one hand digging in her backpack. “Come on, I know I have another Dum-Dum in here... ah, here it is.” She dropped the wrapper on the green grass and stuck the candy in her mouth. “There is this guy I met at the university library. He was so nice, helping me find my book. I gave him my number, but... he hasn’t called.” She shrugged. “I guess the smart ones have better things to do than hang out with high school girls.”

She sounded really bummed about it. “Sorry, Dana. Next year, you won’t be in high school. Then they won’t act that way.”

She gave me a wan smile. “Maybe I’m just not exciting enough.”

I couldn’t imagine anyone thinking Dana wasn’t exciting. I mean, she wasn’t crazy or anything like that, but she was lively and spontaneous and fun. “Don’t ever change yourself, Danes. You’re the best.”

The bell rang, and she stood up. “I hope you’re always around to boost my confidence, Jayne.”

“I will be.” I meant it, too. We didn’t have to be in the same state to be close. “See ya after school.”

“See ya.”

The rest of my classes went by in a blur, and finally the last bell rang. Most of my peers made a bee-line for the parking lot, but I lingered by my locker. Spanish club didn’t start for another fifteen minutes.

“Think about what I said, okay?” Dana popped up next to me, sucker in her mouth, and I jumped, startled. She pulled a new bag of Dum-Dums out of her backpack and ripped it open.

“Ah, you scared me. Think about...?” It took me a moment to realize she was referring back to lunch and my supposed conquest of Aaron. “Sure, Danes. I’ll think on it.”

“Right, you will.” She handed me a Dum-Dum. “Call me when you get done with work.”

Work. Hannah. My stomach twisted up. “I’m closing. It’ll be late.”

“No prob.” She waved at me over her shoulder and started down the hall.

“Coming, Jayne?” Meredith Singer, a short girl with brown hair and glasses, stopped next to my locker. Meredith was probably my closest friend after Dana. We had journalism together and had been doing Spanish club for three years. Spanish club met every Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday after school, but I usually only went on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Mondays and Fridays were game days.

“Yes. On my way.”

Mr. Livingston, my Spanish teacher and Spanish club adviser, was handing out newspapers to students as we came in. “
Hola, amigos
,” he said in what sounded to me like a perfect accent. He had lived in Argentina for a few years as an English teacher, and he still spoke with ease.

Spanish club had a mostly female population, a fact that I attributed to Mr. Livingston’s dark lashes and blue eyes, not to mention the dimple in his cheek when he smiled. He handed me a newspaper as I came in. “Come on in, Jayne. Assignment’s on the board.”

In Spanish club we went beyond grammar and memorization and tried to dive into life as a Spanish-speaker. So today, according to the white board, we were choosing articles in the paper and translating them into Spanish.

Meredith sat down next to me. “Partners?”

“Of course.”

She flipped through the pages we’d been given. “Shall we do something involving
comida
?”

“Always easy,” I agreed, still flipping through. An article continuing from page 2a stopped me short.

...third body found in as many weeks.

“
This is a sign of a serial killer,” Prof. Daniels warns. “This killer is following the same pattern: finding a young girl late at night, killing her in the same manner, and dumping the body behind a dumpster. These crimes won’t stop until he’s caught.”

Police are cautioning all women to travel in pairs, to carry pepper spray...

The rest of the article blurred before my eyes, and I dropped the paper. It couldn’t have been Hannah. I’d just Seen her last night. She couldn’t be dead already. The visions didn’t come true that fast.

I jumped up so quickly I slammed my hip into my desk. Wincing, I hobbled over to another table and fished through the various paper segments. 2a. I scanned the page until I found the beginning of the article.

The name of the most recent victim, discovered Tuesday night at ten p.m., has not been released at this time.

I breathed a little easier. It wasn’t Hannah. I met her yesterday, Tuesday night. I put my head in my hands, trying to clear my thoughts. But this was how Hannah would die.

“Jayne?” Meredith touched my shoulder, and I pulled my head up. “Hey, I found a great article on the food festival. Did you find anything else?”

“No.” I shook my head quickly. “No, let’s get started.”

“Everything going okay here?” Mr. Livingston paused by our table.

“Great.” I gave him my brightest smile, hoping it didn’t tremble. I fumbled with the paper, pressing my thumb over the headline.

Mr. Livingston’s eyes followed my movement. He picked up the paper and scanned the article on the latest victim, a shadow darkening his eyes. “You shouldn’t let these things bother you. Keep good company and you’ll be safe.”

So my teachers knew about the serial killer too. “Of course. We’re just about to dive into
la seccion de comida
.”

He smiled and nodded. “Very good. Much more appropriate. You should write an article on the club for the school paper, Jayne. You’re such a great writer.”

Mr. Livingston asked me to include the club in the newspaper at least once a month. Since I knew everyone in there, I usually did, giving the Spanish club coverage in a quarter of our school papers. Technically, I was a sports writer, but I could be versatile for Mr. Livingston. The paper came out every Friday, and sometimes the other members of the staff had a hard time coming up with new topics. “That’s a great idea. Maybe I’ll write an article for
Cinco de Mayo
. It’s coming up.”