Goddess Girl Prophecy

by C C Daniels

  He got really close and whispered “I think I’ve come up with a plan for the—”

  “Apple!” I interrupted him.

  “What?” He squinted at me with a very confused look.

  “You’re talking about the apple. That I found.” I gave him the most meaningful look and attempted to send him a thought that he should play along. That thought wouldn’t send.

  “Oh, right, gotcha,” he said with a smile.

  Two boys walking by us got into a friendly shoving match. One boy pushed the other boy into me, who pushed me into Kanaan.

  Kanaan caught me around the waist to keep me from headbutting his chin, or from falling over completely. I braced my hands on his chest. When I had caught my balance, he didn’t let go of me right away and I didn’t pull away either.

  “Hey! Hey! Hey!” yelled one of the boys responsible for pushing me. He pointed at us and began singing, “Wray and Kanaan sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” The teens around us laughed and sang along on their way to class.

  I looked up at Kanaan to see him smiling broadly at me. I pushed at his chest lightly to let me go. He did, but very slowly.

  I backed away. “Later? At lunch?”

  “About the apple?” he asked, the big smile still plastered on his face.

  “Yes,” I insisted. “What did you think I was talking about?” I laughed, as I turned to walk forward.

  His thoughts were on our kiss in the barn. I tried not to hear him as I walked away, because his thoughts made me blush.

  “No control over this thing at all,” I whispered to myself.

  As I rounded the corner to the science wing, I walked behind a crowd of taller-than-me students on purpose. Just as I feared, Mr. Smith was waiting to accost me on my way into Ms. Savage’s class.

  I stepped back around the corner. The second bell rang and Mr. Smith turned to look in the opposite direction. That’s when I ran as fast as I could across the hall. He turned around just in time to see me close the door. I smirked at him through the glass.

  “Wray,” said Ms. Savage. “Would you like to take a seat?”

  I turned around to the entire class staring at me. “Sorry.” I slid onto my stool and took out my science notes.

  “Paranormal.” Ms. Savage wrote the word on the board, finishing with her signature flourished underline. “What does that word mean to you?”

  “Vampires,” said one student.

  Others threw out the words: werewolves, witches, and ghosts.

  I snickered.

  Ms. Savage’s eyes darted to me.

  “You don’t believe, Wray?”

  I shrugged. “Not really.”

  “Telepathy,” called out another student.

  I turned my eyes to my notebook. Breathe, Wray, just breathe. Breathe very, very deep.

  “Well, back in the day”—Ms. Savage started her lecture—“people who were mentally ill or even just physically ill were assumed to be possessed. Instead of medicine, they were treated with Holy Water, medicine man chants, or in some cases, burned at the stake.”

  “Like the witches in Salem.” The girl to the side of me frowned.

  Ms. Savage pointed at her. “Exactly.”

  “The people killed in Salem weren’t witches,” I said. “The entire town was using rotten rye to bake their bread. It was the mold on the rotten rye that caused the hallucinations.”

  “Very good.” Ms. Savage pointed at me before she turned back to the board.

  “Far out, dude,” said a guy in the back. “I want rye for lunch.” The class laughed.

  Ms. Savage explained the chemical reactions of the moldy grain used in Salem and went on to talk about how certain foods affect our minds and bodies.

  “What about vampires?” my lab partner asked. I narrowed my eyes at his intense focus on Ms. Savage.

  “You are what you eat,” someone in the back called out.

  Again, the class laughed.

  “There are humans,” Ms. Savage said, “who crave blood. The disorder is called Renfield’s syndrome and it is closely linked to cannibalism. Whether both or either of the two diseases are caused by DNA, or food, or something else in the environment is still unknown.”

  My lab partner gasped. “So, vampires do exist?”

  “The point is,” I said. “That bloodlust can be explained scientifically.”

  Ms. Savage smiled and nodded. Her lesson that day was just a continuation of the last. And again, it felt like she planned this one just for me.

  The lunch bell rang. I hung back, slowly put my things into my pack. Once everyone was gone, I pulled out Ms. Savage’s envelope.

  She took it from me. “What did you think of it?”

  I cocked my head sideways. “Interesting.”

  We both noticed Mr. Smith loitering outside the door watching us. I rolled my eyes. I wish that man would stop stalking me.

  Ms. Savage gasped and looked at me with huge eyes. I panicked. I knew she had heard my thought.

  “Look, um.” She darted a look at Mr. Smith while she slid the envelope into her bag. “Why don’t we set a time to talk about this later. Somewhere a bit more private?”

  I nodded.

  “In the meantime, I’ll distract him.” She picked up her bag and walked out of her classroom with me.

  “Oh, Mr. Smith.” She caught his elbow and turned him to the side. “I need to talk to you about next week’s lab schedule.”

  She shot me a look. I took the hole she created and moved quickly past them.

  Kanaan waited for me outside the entrance to the lunch line. We got in line together.

  “About that apple,” he said nonchalantly shoving a tray along the rails.

  “Yes?” I kept reminding myself to breathe.

  “We need a decoy of it,” he said nodding as though he were a genius.

  “I’ll get right on that.” I replied tongue in cheek. “Because those kinds of apples are a dime a dozen and one can just find them anywhere.”

  “She mocks me.” He held his chest in pretend insult.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m taking my annoyance out on you.”

  “What annoyance?” he said just as we both spotted Mr. Smith standing around at the lunch line exit door.

  “I see.” Kanaan was more than a little angry. He pointed to some mystery meat concoction and the lunch lady dished up a plate of it for him.

  “We’re not sure he sent the MIBs. Please don’t start anything,” I whispered. I set a bowl of fruit salad on my tray and took a carton of organic milk from the cold case.

  “He messes with you, he messes with me,” Kanaan said.

  The cashier tallied his food and swiped his card. Slowly, he put it back in his wallet and then his wallet in his pocket. He lifted his tray and waited for me.

  I handed my card to the cashier to pay. When I was ready, Kanaan nodded at me. He went first and I followed him into the lunchroom.

  Mr. Smith stepped right in between us, almost knocking the tray right out of my hands.

  “Hey, you pervert!” Kanaan shouted really loudly. “If you don’t leave Wray alone, we’re calling the police.”

  Mr. Smith’s eyes got really huge with embarrassment.

  “Kanaan,” I chastised him, uncomfortably looking around at the other students who watched what was going on.

  “No.” Kanaan looked at me. “Enough is enough. This guy is harassing you and it’s gonna stop.”

  He turned back to Mr. Smith. “It’s gonna stop right now, isn’t it, Mr. Smith?”

  By this time, Mr. Smith’s face was beet red. I wasn’t sure if it was from anger or embarrassment.

  I stepped closer to Kanaan. “You stop, right now,” I seethed through my teeth. I looked over to our table and Amaya was actually laughing—laughing hard. I shot her a look and she had the decency to at least cover her mouth to hide her mirth.

  Someone must have called the principal, because she rushed through the lunchroom door. Mrs. Joyce was new.
She had just arrived in Manitou that school year. Mrs. Joyce reached us breathless from her run.

  “Mr. Smith,” she said between gasps for air. She turned on him first. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “I have no idea,” Mr. Smith said.

  “Oh, I think you do,” I said quietly throwing his words and tone he used on me at T-Shirt Tom’s back at him.

  If looks were knives, I would have had about twenty of them stuck in my head.

  Kanaan stepped in front of me to talk to Mrs. Joyce. “Mr. Smith has been stalking Wray. Here at school and at her job.”

  “That is certainly not true,” Mr. Smith said in his most indignant tone of voice.

  “Mr. Smith, why are you in the cafeteria just now?” Mrs. Joyce put her hands on her ample hips and looked at him over her bifocals. “You are not assigned lunchroom duty today.”

  Mr. Smith looked uncomfortably at her and then at me. “I just wanted to talk to Wray.”

  “She doesn’t have a single class with you,” Kanaan interrupted him. “What could you possibly have to talk to her about?”

  Mrs. Joyce raised an eyebrow at Mr. Smith as she awaited an answer to that question.

  “It’s a private matter,” he said so softly that I could barely hear him.

  “Come with me,” Mrs. Joyce ordered him.

  “You two”—she looked at me and Kanaan—“sit and eat your lunch. I’ll call you into my office if and when I deem it necessary.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I swallowed, happy to get out of the spotlight. I walked very quickly to our table and avoided looking into all the eyes that followed me. Kanaan walked slowly, strutting like a peacock. I was livid. My eyes searing hot by the time I got to our table.

  Chapter 19

  Amaya snorted with glee.

  “Oh my God, Kanaan, that was awesome.” She high-fived him as he pulled out his chair.

  Students around us clapped at him.

  “Thank you. Thank you very much.” He took a bow before he sat down.

  I shot Amaya a look that quickly melted her smile.

  She gasped. “Wray, your eyes.”

  I looked down at my tray and tried to calm myself.

  “What’s wrong with her eyes?” Kanaan said. He lowered his head in an attempt to look up into my face and my eyes.

  “Nothing.” I opened my carton of milk and kept my eyes averted from them both.

  “They’re glowing gold,” Amaya whispered.

  Breathe, Wray, just breathe—very, very deep. MawMaw’s words rang in my head. I closed my eyes and inhaled as deep as I could.

  “Are you okay?” Kanaan’s tone was contrite.

  Keeping my head down and eyes closed, I held up a finger, making him wait. After a slow exhale, I gulped half the container of milk. The cold from it seeped through my stomach, soaked through the anger, and cooled the heat in my eyes.

  “So.” Finally calm enough to open my eyes and glare at Kanaan. “What the hell was that?”

  He stabbed a fork into the mystery meat. “The guy was following you around. Even if he didn’t creep you out, he did me.” He looked at me defiantly. “Why are you defending him anyway?” He shoveled a big bite into his mouth.

  “I’m not defending him.” I looked around at the other students. Some still had their attention trained on Kanaan and me. I lowered my voice and leaned in. “What if he’s behind the MIBs?”

  Amaya shook her head in confusion. “MIBs? What are MIBs?”

  “Men in black,” Kanaan said exasperated.

  Amaya playfully slapped his arm. “Don’t make fun of me.”

  Then, she turned to me. And she hesitated. It was just a beat, like a split of a split second that she wavered before speaking. “What makes you think it was him?”

  “It’s just a possibility.” I shrugged. “We don’t know anything about what’s going on.” I didn't know why I was so angry. It just kept coming back and I just kept tamping it down. I took a super deep breath.

  Kanaan swallowed a bite of food. “Sometimes you just gotta stand up against bullies,” he mumbled.

  “Like Wray id against an MIB in a barn?” Amaya picked the crust off her bread.

  Kanaan stopped chewing and squinted at her.

  She raised an eyebrow at him and bit into her sandwich.

  We ate the rest of our lunches in silence. Once in a while, I heard a random thought that came from people around me. I doubled my concentration on breathing for the rest of the afternoon.

  First thing in German, my last class of the day, was a pop quiz. I was so glad. It was a reprieve for my brain to focus on one thing—and a normal thing at that. Done, I walked my test to the teacher’s desk as an office runner showed up at the door. The teacher read the note and looked up at me.

  “You finished just in time. You’re wanted in the principal’s office.” He balled up the note and threw it in the trash.

  When I got to the main office, Kanaan was already in one of the two chairs outside of Mrs. Joyce’s office. He looked at me sheepishly as I slid into the other chair. As if things couldn’t get worse, MawMaw and Honaw waltzed in as well. Perfect, I thought, and rolled my eyes at the ceiling.

  “I know you want me to be sorry, but I’m not,” Kanaan said.

  I inhaled deep.

  “Wray.” MawMaw hobbled over to me with her cane. “Why didn’t you tell me Smith was bothering you?”

  “I didn’t want to upset you,” I answered honestly. “And it’s really not that important.”

  Kanaan got up to offer MawMaw his seat. She smiled at him and sat next to me leaning in. “I told you that family isn’t pure.”

  “You got that right,” Kanaan blurted out. “Wray thinks he might be involved with the men in black.”

  MawMaw shook her head vigorously. “Not a chance. The Smiths are too stingy to split profits with any hired guns.”

  Honaw snorted a laugh. “That is the God’s honest truth, too.”

  MawMaw stiffened her back a little. “Why would you think that he sent the gunmen, Wray? Did Smith say something to you?”

  “Smith asked about relics,” said Kanaan.

  I frowned at Kanaan and sent the Lykota brothers a thought. MawMaw does not know about the skull and I don’t want her to either.

  Kanaan mouthed oops to me.

  Eyebrows high onto his forehead, Honaw looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

  I darted a glance at MawMaw to see if she heard my rash reaction. Apparently not. Same with the admin assistant just a few feet from us. My thought reached my intended audience and no one else.

  “What kind of relics?” MawMaw pressed us.

  Kanaan and I both shrugged.

  “I honestly don’t think he has any idea what he’s looking for, MawMaw,” Kanaan said.

  I consciously regulated deep breaths to keep my anger and mind speak under control. It felt like I was getting the hang of it. Though he was trying not to, Honaw kept glancing at me.

  Sorry. I tilted my head in apology. But the thing was, I wasn't sorry. Why, after a lifetime of covering up all my quirks, I embraced that particular one was a question I couldn't answer.

  The principal’s office door opened and, with Mrs. Joyce following close behind, Mr. Smith came out. Lips pressed firmly together and his face white, he didn’t look at me, or any of us, just walked straight out of the office and down the hall in the direction of his classroom.

  Mrs. Joyce nodded at us. “Please come in.” She held the door.

  When I got through the threshold, I noticed that Ms. Savage was seated to the side of Mrs. Joyce’s desk. She nodded once to reassure me before she rose to greet Honaw and MawMaw.

  Mrs. Joyce introduced herself to them, too, and then took a seat behind the big desk that took up most of the room.

  I motioned for MawMaw to sit in one of the two visitors’ chairs that faced the desk. Honaw took the other. Kanaan and I stood behind our respective guardians.

  “Ms. Sky, I wish you had brou
ght Mr. Smith’s actions to my attention sooner.”

  I lowered my eyes.

  “He swears he meant nothing…um”—she paused unwilling to say the word— “sexual by his conduct.”

  I nodded at that.

  “You agree with that statement then?” she said.

  “Yes. I do.” He was creepy, but not in that way.

  “Good.” She leaned back in her chair, more relaxed.

  “What about you, Mr. Lykota?” She glanced at Kanaan.

  He shrugged. “I’ll have to trust Wray’s judgment on that.”

  The principal narrowed her eyes and turned back to me. “Ms. Sky, can you tell me what this issue is about?”

  “Mrs. Joyce, if I may speak?” Ms. Savage said.

  The principal nodded and gave her the floor.

  “You should know that Mr. Smith has a keen interest in American Indian artifacts.” That elicited grunts of agreement from the Utes in the room that took the principal by surprise.

  “Go on.” Mrs. Joyce nodded.

  “Well,” Ms. Savage continued. “Mr. Smith is under the impression that Wray is in possession of a very rare and priceless object that he wants.”

  A quick catch of her breath, MawMaw clasped her hands together.

  “I see.” Mrs. Joyce removed her glasses and wiped her eyes. “This is a weird little town.”

  She looked at Honaw and MawMaw. “I’m sorry to have dragged you both up here, but as their guardians you should be aware of any issues Wray and Kanaan have here at Manitou High. I strive for complete transparency. Is there anything either of you would like to add or ask?”

  They both shrugged and shook their heads no.

  Mrs. Joyce replaced her glasses. “I warned Mr. Smith to stay at least one hundred feet away from Wray.” She looked pointedly at me. “If that order is broken, you are to report to this office immediately. Understood?”

  I nodded vigorously.

  Then, Mrs. Joyce turned to Kanaan. “Now, as for you young man. I get that you were protecting Wray, but there are much better ways to handle issues like this other than confrontations in the lunchroom.”

  Kanaan nodded contritely. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “All right then.” The principal pushed herself up from the desk and showed us to the door.