by C C Daniels
I kissed her cheek goodbye like always, and picking up my backpack on the way out, I raced through the door Dad held open for me.
In the hall outside our apartment, I pushed the elevator down button. While we waited for it, I glanced out the landing window. Some men loitered across the street. Nothing unusual in New York, except that particular group of men looked familiar. I inhaled super deep through my nose and exhaled slowly through my mouth. The elevator chimed its arrival, but my attention was riveted on the guys across the street.
“Coming?” Dad held his hand across the doors to prevent them from closing.
I shook the groundless fear out of my head, smiled, and got in the elevator. I looped my arm around Dad’s and laid my head on his shoulder.
“You’re being mighty affectionate this morning,” he said.
“I just want you and Mom to know I love you. I’m so glad you chose me for your daughter.”
“Pfft. Like we had any choice. There you were, cooing cutely on our doorstep.” He laughed and kissed the top of my head again. “I’m really glad your Mom insisted we keep your pale butt.”
I playfully pinched his side. We were an odd combination. Mom and Dad were dark-skinned Ute Indians, born and raised in Colorado. By contrast, my pale skin, blond almost white hair, and blue eyes led me to think my biological parents were Scandinavian—or albino as I sometimes joked.
The elevator opened to the underground parking garage where we got in Dad’s car. The automatic door creaked up to let him exit. Once out, I scanned the other side of the street for those men.
“Take 62nd. There’s a traffic jam on 64th,” I murmured craning my neck to look through the back window as Dad turned onto the street. The men were gone.
Dad creased his brow. “How do you know?”
I blinked rapidly at him. “The news?” In my mind, I clearly saw a broken-down bakery truck stuck in the middle of the street and a half-dozen men trying to push it to the curb. Did I get that from the news that morning? “There’s always a traffic jam on 64th.” I smiled to cover my uneasiness. My mind was playing tricks on me in so many ways that morning.
Not listening to me, Dad turned onto 64th anyway, and there they were. Just like I knew they’d be. It was like I had lived that exact scene before. I swallowed, not wanting to believe my own mind.
Dad looked at me out of the corner of his eye and hummed the Twilight Zone theme song. “Do-do-do-do. Do-do-do-do.”
Hand shaking, I opened the car door. “Close enough, Dad. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
“Don’t be upset, sweetheart. Next time I’ll respect your quirk and listen to your traffic forecast.” He honked the horn at the bakery truck just to add to the din of noise. He laughed, but I heard the worried undertone in his voice and felt him watch me as I walked away.
My quirks were many and my parents took them in stride—the ones they knew about anyway. I focused on my breathing and kept moving.
School was only a block farther. Mom and Dad paid a lot of money for me to go there. They moved us to New York just so I could attend that pretentiously named school. Dad said it was worth it to give me access to a world-class education. I did love the international atmosphere and kids from different countries. But I also missed Colorado, a lot. I walked up the massive stone steps to the School of the World.
Out of the traffic jam, Dad honked and waved at me on his way by. When I turned to wave back, I caught sight of the driver and passenger in the car behind him. They were the same guys who were outside our building that morning; the same guys from my nightmare.
“Happy birthday, Wray!” Peg shouted from the top of the steps. With Peg, short for Pegeen, were three more of my friends—Bain, Ramla, and Zabrina. Determined to forget about my stupid nightmare, I shook it off and ran up the rest of the stairs.
“Thanks!” I smiled and gave each of them a big hug.
“Geez, what’s gotten into you?” Peg hugged me back.
“Just really happy to see all of you.” And I was. It felt like I hadn’t seen them in ages, when of course I saw them just the day before.
From behind, someone grabbed me around the waist and kissed my cheek. I dropped my backpack and swung with both fists raised.
Peg gripped the guy’s sleeve and pulled him away from the stairs.
“Whoa, girl, whoa.” The dark-haired boy who just kissed me held up his hands in mock surrender. He smiled.
“Oh my gawd, Wray.” Peg hung on to his arm. “You almost pushed Chax down the steps.”
“Who?” I creased my brow at her.
“Um, hello? Chax? Your boyfriend?” She let go of his arm and put her hand to my forehead. “Are you sick?”
My eyes searched hers. Was she joking? “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
The smile on the boy’s face faded. My friends looked at me like I was crazy.
The bell rang and students rushed to go inside, everyone except the boy and me. He took my hand, gently by the fingertips. “Did I do something to make you angry?”
“What? No. Yeah!” I was so confused. I took my hand back and picked up my pack. “You grabbed me and kissed me, and I don’t even know you!” As long as I live, I’ll never forget the look of despair on his face. I rushed around him to go inside.
Breathe, Wray, just breathe. That bit of advice came from my paternal grandmother in my nightmare. Oh, that stupid nightmare. It was just a dream! Why couldn’t I shake it?
Kids whizzed around me adding to the dizzy, off-balance feeling. My locker looked familiar, but in a reminiscent way. With shaky hands, I turned the combination and took out books for my morning classes.
The walk to English happened in a haze of confusion and dread. Taking my seat, in my peripheral vision I watched my so-called boyfriend enter the room and sit next to me. I wouldn’t look at him. I couldn’t look at him. The concern and panic oozing from him penetrated my skin adding his feelings to my own alarm. That was a quirk that got worse in the nightmare. It shook me that the nightmare and real life mirrored one another.
The second bell rang. Chax stopped staring at me and focused on the teacher. I knew the teacher was going to call a pop quiz, and he did.
I took a copy from the stack of quizzes handed to me, and without looking at him, I held the stack out to my right for the dark-haired, muscular boy. He stared at me. I didn’t look back, but just felt him—felt him so intensely. He didn’t move to take the papers.
“Mr. Lykota.” The teacher rapped his knuckles on Chax’s desk. “Sorry my pop quiz shocked you into speechlessness. Please take one and pass it on so we can get it over with.”
The class groaned.
Lykota? I crinkled my brow. Was Chax related to Kanaan and Honaw? The Colorado Lykota brothers?
Taking a sheet from the stack, Chax intentionally brushed my hand as he took the papers. The touch made me look at him. His eyes were wolf gray, just like Kanaan’s. And he wore his long, dark hair in a low ponytail, just like Kanaan. There was definitely a resemblance to the Colorado Lykotas, but he wasn’t nearly as dark-skinned as Kanaan.
With high cheekbones, Chax looked at least part biologically Ute. He continued to stare at me and handed the papers over his shoulder to the student behind him. His eyes mesmerized me. How could it be that my friends, classmates, and the teacher all knew him? Not only knew him but treated him like he had been there for a long time.
“Everyone have a quiz?” the teacher asked. The class murmured a reluctant yes. “Begin,” he said.
Everyone turned their papers right side up. The rustling sound jarred me to do the same. It was a vocabulary quiz that I’d seen before. I remembered that the last time I took it, I had answered number ten wrong and knew the correct answer. I shook my head to shake the eerie feeling.
“Are you okay?” Chax whispered.
“Wray? Chax? Something wrong?” The teacher walked our way.
“Wray is—” Chax started.
“Fine.” I cut him off. “Nothing’s wron
g.”
“No, sir.” Chax’s voice broke a bit, and again I felt his concern layered on mine. “Nothing’s wrong,” he murmured and turned away to do the quiz.
Within thirty seconds, I finished circling my answers on the multiple-choice quiz, but pretended to keep working until the teacher called time. I spent the rest of that class and two more before lunch avoiding Chax’s stare and devastated emotions. I had my own worries, like how the entire morning felt like a giant déjà vu. Well, not all of it. The necklace from Mom and Dad was new. I fingered the blue and green beads. And Chax, who kept darting looks my way, was totally new to me.
Peg met me at my locker just before lunch. “So, seriously? What is going on with you? How can you be so cruel to Chax?” The boy’s locker was just a few down from mine, and he overheard Peg.
“I’m not, I’m—” My breath came in shallow spurts. “I don’t know him, Peg,” I finished in a whisper.
Peg held out her hand. “Give me your phone.”
Hands shaking, I did as she asked. Peg clicked around on it, and then held it up to my face. There on the screen was a text conversation that Chax and I supposedly shared the night before.
“What?” I took the phone from her to get a closer look at the messages. Apparently, Chax and I chatted about my birthday dinner coming up. Even my parents were included on a few of the messages and they had texted us both back. The last message in the stream was from me to Chax. I love you, it said.
What was wrong with me? I was usually better at hiding my quirks. But a sudden supposed boyfriend caught me off guard. I didn’t understand what was going on. My breathing turned shallow, and I felt faint.
“Leave her alone!” Chax pushed Peg out of the way and caught my hand to keep me from wobbling to the floor.
When his palm touched mine, I felt a jolt of energy and saw images. The visions were the two of us as adults. I saw a house, kids and a little girl wearing a birthday-girl crown. On the table was a cake with six candles and Happy Birthday Vail written in twirled pink icing. Vail was the name I’d chosen for my first daughter—if and when I ever had one. It was a happy scene, and I liked the sensations that came with the images. Most of my visions came with excruciating pain. That one with Chax was the exact opposite. It was soothing and joyful.
Even though I didn’t want him to, Chax let go of my hand to put a supportive arm around my waist. “It’s okay. We’ll figure out what’s wrong with you,” he said.
“Wray playing games, obviously.” Peg stomped away in the direction of the lunchroom leaving Chax and me alone in the hall.
Goddess Girl Pedigree
coming in March 2020.
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About the Author
CC is a magna cum laude graduate of the University of Colorado Boulder Journalism School, an ex-TV producer, former USAF civilian employee, bona fide story junkie, and amateur needleworker who lives in Colorado Springs with her hardworking husband and two adorable cats.
When she isn’t working on a story, you’ll most likely find her adding to a substantial crafting stash, sipping on froufrou coffee, nibbling on fine chocolate, or hunting for treasures in thrift and antique stores.
You may have already guessed that CC Daniels is a pen name. Smart you are absolutely right. CC (Charlotte Clare) Daniels is a mashup of her given name and her parents’ first names.
She counts winning the grand prize in the American Screenwriters Association and Writer’s Digest International Screenplay Competition (under her given name) among the most exciting of her writerly accomplishments…so far.