Night Sky (18 page)

“It was… It was really awful.” I forced myself to look over at Dana. Her face was grim. I cleared my throat and braced myself, because I knew once I said the words out loud, it would be even more real than it already was. “I think I just had one of those visions again. I think when I moved that bottle I saw…”

Dana kept her eyes locked intently on mine. “It's okay,” she said. “Tell me.”

“I think I saw Sasha getting killed.”

And there it was.

Dana's eyes grew almost imperceptibly wider for only a fraction of a second. She took back the hand that she'd been using to rub my shoulder and leaned her elbows on her knees as she sat tailor-style in the sand. “I'm sorry you saw that.” I could tell that Dana was dying to ask about the details, but she kept her mouth shut to allow me time to process everything.

“I want to catch these bastards,” I hissed through gritted teeth. For the first time, I was honestly glad that I was a Greater-Than, because being a G-T was going to help me catch them. “I want them to pay for everything they've done.”

“Believe me, kiddo,” Dana replied, “we're on the same page.”

“She was terrified,” I blurted. “God, it was
beyond
terror. She knew she was going to die.”

The corner of Dana's eye twitched as I spoke, almost like she wanted to wince but couldn't quite bring herself to show that much emotion.

“But I didn't see who she was looking at,” I realized. “No!
No!
I should have turned around, but I wasn't thinking. It didn't even occur to me—”

“You might not have been able to see her killer,” Dana tried to reassure me, even though I could tell that she was bitterly disappointed. “Visions are what they are—”

“But I didn't even
try
. What kind of psychic doesn't at least—”

“A beginner,” Dana interrupted me again. “You're a beginner, so give yourself a break.”

“I don't want to be a beginner,” I told her. “I want to be like you! Please teach me everything.
Everything
.”

Dana studied me somberly for a few moments. Her crystal-blue eyes were almost the same color as the sky. “I'll do my best,” she replied.

I looked at her and nodded, before turning away and gazing out at a distant pair of sailboats sweeping gracefully across the sparkling, sunlit water. It was difficult to believe that this beautiful world was a terrible place with terrible people.

But that was the truth. Innocent people like Sasha suffered at the hands of the evil and the greedy and then… Oh, God, I missed Sasha so much….

Dana's voice jolted me out of my thoughts. “Bubble Gum, it's gonna take time.”

I exhaled hard. “Still. There must be some exercises I can do while I'm at home—”

“I'm not talking about your training,” she said. “I'm talking about…” She cleared her throat. “The way you feel. It's gonna take some serious time before it fades. And every second until it does is gonna suck. But it
will
get easier. One morning you'll wake up and you'll be able to breathe again. I promise.”

Anyone else giving me that spiel would have been offered a swift eye roll. But it was Dana. And something about the way she spoke those words made me feel like she knew a thing or two about grief as well. Also, that cinnamon I could smell? It didn't lie.

“Come on, Bubble Gum,” Dana said, standing up and brushing the sand off her leather pants. She offered me a hand and I took it, giving her permission to pull me up. “Let's get going. I think this is enough for one day.”

“But I barely even—”

Dana shook her head quickly, dismissing my thought before I could spit it out. “Doesn't matter. You did more than you think. Remember—always do your best. Never more than that.”

“Never more than my best?” I asked, laughing a little at the thought.

“Exactly.” Dana didn't say anything else about it, so I just nodded. “Come on.” She pointed to the road ahead.

We walked a little bit in silence. My head pounded from crying so hard, and I was exhausted.

“I think what you did earlier was really cool, by the way,” Dana mentioned. “When you were honest about the fact that my bike made you uncomfortable. It's awesome that you admitted you were afraid. Not a lot of people are willing to do that.”

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything.

“The deal is,” Dana continued, “that nobody can face their fear until they admit that they're afraid.”

She must've sensed my skepticism, because she kept going. “Courage isn't being invincible, Sky. It's knowing that you're not, and taking risks anyway. It's knowing you're afraid, and taking action regardless.”

I nodded.

“We'll get you on that bike,” Dana promised, slapping me cheerfully on the back. “I promise.”

Yay? I started to pull out my cell phone to call Calvin to come pick us up.

But Dana stopped me. “Don't call Scooter,” she said.

“Why? He's our only way home.”

“Not true,” she said, marching back toward the main road. “You said you want me to teach you everything, right?”

“Right.”

“Today, I'm going to teach you a little bit about public transportation.”

And with that, I followed Dana to a nearby bench, where we sat and waited patiently for what would officially be the first public bus ride of my life.

After we made it back to the school parking lot, Dana took off on her bike and I started walking home.

I hadn't had a chance to look in a mirror, but I hoped and prayed I didn't look too swollen and miserable from all the crying. All I needed to make my day complete was the third degree from my mother when I got home. Although I realized that a little honesty would shut her down cold if I said
the
reality
of
Sasha's death finally hit me
. And maybe, in sympathy, she'd let me stay out an extra half hour on Saturday night.

Yeah, dream on.

My cell phone rang and I fished it out of my pocket.

“How was training with GI Jane today?” Cal asked eagerly. “Did she make you yell
Sir, yes, sir!
and run down the beach carrying a telephone pole up over your head?”

I laughed despite myself. “She's not training me to be a Navy SEAL.”

“Still…”

“I don't want to talk about it,” I said. I kicked a branch across the sidewalk, remembering how I'd moved the bottle…and the vision of Sasha that had appeared in my mind as a result.

“Eh, you suck,” Cal replied cheerfully. “Be that way. I'm really calling because my homework was killing me and I needed a caffeine infusion. So I came to CoffeeBoy and…”

He didn't need to finish. “Oh, no.”

“Yep. Your mom's back. So is Jolly Ol' Jenkins.”

I nearly choked. “Please tell me you're kidding.”

“Wish I were,” Cal said apologetically. “Man, they've gotta work on finding a different place for their little rendezvous, 'cause this is my damn CoffeeBoy. It's the only one around here that still has hazelnut.”

“Are they
seriously
together together? I mean, maybe they just happened to walk in at the same time.”

“Doubtful,” Cal said quietly. “Wait a sec. I'm gonna try to see what they're talking about.”

“Okay,” I whispered back, keeping the phone pinned to my ear as I kept walking.

There was a moment of silence, and then Calvin's voice: “Hey, hey, hey! Ms. Reid! What's up?”

I heard my mom's voice, but couldn't quite make out what she said.

“Yeah,” Cal answered her. “Just taking a break from the homework stuff.”

Then Mr. Jenkins said something. His voice was as muffled as Mom's had been—but it was definitely Jenkins. His tone cut through.

“Oh, yeah,” Calvin responded. “Practice makes perfect, right?” A fake laugh. “Alrighty, then. Have a good one!”

There was another brief pause, and then I heard Cal order his coffee. I waited for him to leave the shop.

“I'm back,” Cal finally said into his phone.

“What happened?” I tried to prepare myself for the worst.

“Well, they were huddled in that same corner again,” Calvin replied. “I tried to roll up quietly, but like I said before, I'm kind of conspicuous. Anyway, I only heard a tiny bit of their conversation.”

“And?”

Cal cleared his throat. “Man, it was weird. It's like, I don't know exactly what they said. But they were definitely taking about
you
.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Calvin replied, and laughed a little bit. “Talk about a parent-teacher conference, huh?”

“Ugh.”

“So, I heard your name mentioned, and your mom was looking all concerned, like they were discussing something really serious. And…sit down for this. Jenkins had his hand on your mom's back, and he was rubbing her shoulders.”

I stopped walking and stood in the middle of the sidewalk with my mouth hanging open. “What?”

“I know. It's nasty.”

“Nuh-uh. It's
more
than just nasty. It's…
unacceptable
! Don't they have laws for that kind of thing?”

“Laws?” Cal asked.

“I don't know!” I sputtered. “It just seems so…
wrong
for a teacher and a parent to…do whatever it is they're doing. They must have laws for that.”

I could hear Calvin as he started his car. “Unfortunately, it's not illegal. They jumped apart when I rolled up.”

I shuddered at the very thought of Jenkins and Mom touching, kissing…having sex. I had this sudden awful, vivid image of my mom in her giant bathtub with bubbles up to her neck, and Jenkins in the doorway with only a towel around his waist, holding two glasses of champagne—and please,
please
God, let that have been my imagination and not some psychic vision.

“Anyway,” Cal was saying, “you never know. He might have just been giving your mom some friendly parenting tips.”

“Right,” I retorted, “because he really strikes me as the parental type.”

“Or,” Calvin continued, “maybe your mom is trading sex to get you back into first-chair clarinet.”

“Wow,” I said, “that's even more awful than she's lonely and desperate—which is awful enough. Plus? If that is what she's doing, it's not working. And speaking of not working, you should really stop wearing that hat. It looks ridiculous on you.”

“What hat?” Cal asked, his voice cautious.

“The hat that you're wearing. You know, the little navy blue one. It makes you look like a disgruntled train conductor.”

Cal scoffed. “Girl, first off, I'll disgruntle your ass if you don't watch it. And second, how did you know I was wearing it? I just put it on.”

I paused. “Wait, what?”

“The hat. I just put the hat on. I couldn't find it forever, but it was tucked in between my wheelchair ramp and the driver's seat. I don't know how I spotted that shizz. It blended in.”

I closed my eyes and did what I'd done earlier when I'd counted Dana's tattoos from memory. I visualized Calvin's car, down to the last detail—the rosary beads hanging from the rearview mirror, the pockmarks in the steering wheel from where Cal had picked away at pieces of the outer lining, the cup holders… Right now, there was a CoffeeBoy cup in one, Cal's house keys in the other.

I focused, and I could see his e-reader lying on the floor, its screen saver flashing the message:
You
are
reading
Modern
Geometry, page 654
. Next to that was his unzipped backpack. A red sweatshirt stuck out from the largest pocket.

Tucked into the space in the car's dash, where there should have been a car lighter, were receipts of various sizes and colors. I honed in on the top receipt, closing my eyes and reading.

The print on the page was blotchy, as though the ink cartridge from the cash register was running on empty. But it was unmistakable. It was the CoffeeBoy logo, followed by today's date.

“That's insane,” I mumbled, and opened my eyes.

“What's insane?”

“I can see you.”

“Girl, quit playing. Where are you?”

“I'm walking to my house right now. Just left the school. But there are no cars around. And I can't
see
you see you. But I can definitely see you.”

“Yup. You're definitely insane.”

“I'm not joking.”

“Well, I know that,” Cal said, sighing. “And a week ago, I'd have said that what you claim to be doing right now is impossible, but…you have a tendency lately to prove me wrong.”

I closed my eyes again, willing myself to envision more details about real-time Calvin, but just as quickly it had appeared, it all vanished—like I'd pressed the stop button on a DVD.

“Oh, man,” I said.

“Would you mind telling me what's going on?” Cal asked.

“I just had another vision,” I said. I giggled a little bit. “But I had it in real time. Wow! It's like I just mentally vurped you!”

“Should I feel kind of violated?”

“Vurp,” I repeated. “Like, video conferencing. They still have it up north—”

“Vurp you,” Calvin said. “I know what vurping is. I was making a joke—”

I interrupted him. “I've gotta get in touch with Dana again, A-SAP!”

“A'ight,” Calvin said. “But first can you puh-lease tell me where you are so I can come pick you up? I've got an unfinished homework assignment just waiting for you.”

“I'm not doing your homework for you,” I replied. “But if you want, you can pick me up and I'll help you with it. I'm on Pineapple Boulevard, two blocks down from the school.”

“Dang,” Cal said. “You really
did
have a vision. I'm nowhere near you. All right, just hang tight and I'll be there in ten.”

—

I hadn't been waiting long when a car slowed.

I was lost in seriously disturbing thoughts of Mom and Mr. Jenkins, so I didn't notice it wasn't Calvin until after I'd scrambled to my feet.

“Hey, I thought that was you,” Garrett said from his father's convertible. He was alone in the car. “Need a ride?”

“Nope,” I said, feeling no need to add a polite
thank
you
as I folded my arms across my less-than-voluptuous chest.

He hadn't bothered to pull over—he'd just stopped right there in the middle of the street, and cars rushed by, some of them honking, others slowing and sneaking around him.

But Garrett didn't seem concerned about inconveniencing anyone. “Seriously,” he said, leaning over, pushing open the passenger door, and giving me what he no doubt thought was his sexiest smile. “Get in. I'll drive you home.”

I had to step back to avoid getting bumped by the door. “Seriously,” I said. “No. Calvin's coming to pick me up. So…move it along, Tic-Tac dick.”

It was Dana's line, but I didn't think she'd mind my borrowing it.

Garrett's eyes got disturbingly cold, and there was something ominous and dangerous in his voice as he said, “What's
your
problem? I'm nice enough to offer you a ride, and all you can do is be
rude
?”

Rude?
I
was rude? Of course, he had no idea that I'd overheard him saying all those awful things to Calvin.

A white van with a ridiculous cartoon dog on the side lurched by, its tires squealing, startling me, and my heart started to pound.

Still, I swallowed my anxiety and stood there on the sidewalk, ready to give Garrett a serious piece of my mind.

But before I could open my mouth to speak, I caught a whiff of something as familiar as it was foul.

The sewage smell. It was back. With a vengeance.

I looked at Garrett. And smelled the sewage.

Garrett. Sewage. Garrett and
sewage
.

“Get away from me,” I said, my voice low with emotion. I could feel my heart hammering a rhythm inside my chest, as my stomach heaved and churned.

And I couldn't stop myself. I turned and puked, right there on the sidewalk.

“Gross,” Garrett said, reaching over to slam the car door shut. Without another word, he hit the gas and sped away.

—

By the time Cal pulled up, five short minutes later, I was fine.

“I need to go to the beach,” I told him as he pulled away from the curb. “Can we go there?”

Calvin looked surprised for a moment, but then adjusted his ridiculous hat and nodded. “Okay, but could you fill me in, please? I'm feeling a little out of the loop here. And you look like you've seen a ghost.”

I pushed Cal's backpack to the side so my feet had more room. His e-reader was still flashing that info about page 654 of his geometry text, and I shoved the thing into his backpack, pushing his sweatshirt down too and zipping the pack shut. “Okay. First of all, I just had a run-in with Garrett.”

Calvin's expression didn't change, but I felt the tension in the air multiply exponentially.

“He stopped and offered me a ride. And you were right about him, by the way. Not that I need to convince you, but he's definitely douche-tastic.
Beyond
douche-tastic, actually.” I rubbed a hand over my eyes. “Cal, I think he might be dangerous.”

Calvin shot me a look that was steely. “Did he hurt you?”

“What? No! Of course not. I wouldn't let that happen.”

Calvin nodded, his jaw clenched.

I glanced anxiously out the window. “But that awful smell came back. It was so bad that I threw up.”

“On Garrett?” he asked hopefully, before he realized that probably wasn't the question he was supposed to ask. He reached down into a pocket in the driver's side door and pulled out an unopened bottle of water, handing it to me. “Are you okay?”

“
No
, to Garrett,” I told him as I gratefully opened the bottle and took a long, refreshing drink. “And
yes
, to okay. I think the smell hit me harder than it did before, because of what happened during training.” I told him about the vision I'd had of Sasha, and the muscles jumped in his jaw. “But you know what it means, don't you—the smell?” I came back to what had happened with Garrett. “Dana and Milo told us to watch out for it. The sewage. That smell represents
pure
evil
.”

Calvin looked skeptical for only a moment. Then he pulled on the brim of his blue hat and sighed. I knew he had no choice but to believe me. “So explain how any of this calls for a walk on the beach.”

“I think that Garrett spends most of his time over at his dad's house. It's waterfront property. He brought me there on Saturday when he was trying to impress me.”

Calvin grunted.

“I just… If that smell was so strong when he drove up today…maybe there's a connection. Maybe Garrett had something to do with Sasha's murder.” I glanced at Calvin. He was back to looking skeptical.

“I don't know, dude. Garrett as the homicidal, conspiratorial drug dealer slash kidnapper slash little-girl killer? I mean, he's douche-y to the max, but I think you're giving him a little too much credit. If that makes any sense.”