Second Thoughts

by Cara Bertrand

  But one way or another, it was about to be.

  “LAINEY, I’M SORRY,” Ms. Kim said. “We have to wrap this up. I have a session with Amanda right now.”

  “Oh, this late, huh?” I closed my notebook and capped my pen. “I think we’re all set anyway.”

  At our dorm meeting, Ms. Kim had told us it was her last year in Marquise and asked if anyone would help her organize an end-of-year-and-goodbye party. I volunteered. Distractions were key to my sanity while I waited for graduation, and Daniel Astor, to arrive.

  Amy thought I was crazy, that I should be doing things—whatever they were—to prevent what was going to happen, but I didn’t want to explain that I couldn’t. I needed to confront him, and I needed it to be a surprise, my surprise. So I told her I was doing things—I was living, for as long as I had left.

  As soon as I picked up my bag to pack my things away, a message came in on my phone.

  change of plans. caleb txted to meet him @ yost after tutoring. sorry.

  Amy was supposed to meet me at the bookstore before dinner. Ms. Kim was still talking while I read her text. “…need so much help if she spent less time flirting in class, but I understand it’s hard for her.”

  Wait a minute. “I’m sorry. Did you say Amanda? Amanda Worthington?”

  “Yes. I thought she was one of your dorm girls?”

  “Yeah, she is,” I replied, but it was automatic. I wasn’t thinking about what I was saying; I was thinking about how Ms. Kim’s room was in Yost. And she was on her way there right now, along with Caleb and Mandi Worthington. And Amy. There was no way that was a coincidence. “You know what? I’ll walk with you. If you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. Did you want to talk to Amanda?”

  “Something like that.”

  Something was up and I knew it couldn’t be good. I texted back:

  not a good idea

  But Amy didn’t reply.

  I forced myself to keep the same slow pace as my companion on the way to the class building. My legs wanted to run, to arrive before anyone else and stop whatever was about to happen before it had the chance to become a disaster. That’s the only thing that could be brewing right now: a disaster. But despite my urgency, I had the feeling I needed to stick by Ms. Kim.

  It felt like forever, though, walking the paths from our dorm to the lower school building situated near the back of campus. This was probably why Ms. Kim was moving out of Marquise and into the faculty residences—her campus commute would be cut in half. I tried to listen while she talked but I could barely concentrate.

  I didn’t know what we were walking into, so I didn’t know what to do. Should I stall? Try to hurry? I considered pretending to trip, or telling Ms. Kim I had to use the bathroom and picking up the pace, but I was afraid whatever I chose would be the wrong thing and would ruin my opportunity to prevent or fix whatever was waiting.

  All my prevaricating meant we arrived at the perfect moment. By which I meant exactly the moment Mandi was hoping for. We came in by the west end of the building, and as we approached the hallway for Ms. Kim’s room, I could hear voices ahead of us.

  “Sounds like Miss Worthington’s early! What a rare treat.”

  “Yeah,” I replied, but I was trying to listen. The hall lights were off now, this long after class hours. It wasn’t exactly dark, but gloomy inside, the emptiness of the building making the voices echo and grow.

  “…so nervous, Cay.”

  “You’ll be fine. It’s just a practice essay.” Caleb, no, Cay’s—the endearment made me want to be sick—voice was light, comfortable. Mandi was sugar and sweetness. I pictured her touching him, leaning on his arm and looking up at him while they waited outside Ms. Kim’s door.

  “You could help me, you know.”

  He laughed. “I’m definitely not the guy to help with English.”

  “No, but you could just be the guy. For me.”

  We were almost there, almost rounding the corner into the humanities wing. There was a pause. Caleb paused. He was thinking about it, or what to say, and I nearly ran ahead. Next to me, Ms. Kim frowned. She must have recognized Caleb’s voice.

  “Mand…” he started. Stopped. There was rustling and I knew they were touching now.

  “You could,” she said again and it was a tease, an invitation, a bomb about to go off.

  We came around the corner at the far end of the hall, but we could see them there, embracing, Caleb’s face lowering, slowly toward the upturned, expectant one of Mandi Worthington.

  From behind them came a shriek of, “What the HELL?!”

  “Oh, dear,” Ms. Kim said and we, finally, hurried forward.

  Amy was much closer than we were, at the east end of the hall. She was coming from her service hours, at Admissions, instead of the dorm, so of course she’d have come in on that side of the building.

  Caleb and Mandi broke apart, Caleb moving as if waking from a dream to discover he was on fire.

  Amy’s face was white with rage. “You kissed her!!”

  Did he? I couldn’t be sure. Whatever had happened, it was far closer than it should have been. Close enough to send Amy stalking forward with steps that tapped out danger.

  “I…” Caleb looked as stricken as Mandi looked smug. Triumphant. Like this was the moment she lived for.

  “It was hardly the first time,” Mandi preened and I couldn’t tell you if she was lying or not.

  But it didn’t matter if it was the truth, because Amy hauled off and slapped her regardless. The sharp crack reverberated down the hall.

  Mandi stumbled back while, without a moment’s hesitation, I grabbed Ms. Kim’s arm and Thought.

  This was the moment Mandi had choreographed, had spent months working hard to achieve. She was counting on the perfect witness: faculty advisor for the Honor Board. She was counting on Caleb’s weakness and Amy’s wrath. She was counting on the perfect timing, close enough to Amy’s other problems for it to look really bad and not so close to the end of the year that it could be quietly brushed aside. She was counting on triumph.

  Except she didn’t count on me.

  It was mere seconds, or pieces of seconds, while my Thought did its work. In that blink of time, Amy lunged for Mandi again and I was afraid I’d failed anyway. I still held Ms. Kim’s arm as if in shock, but I didn’t think I could stop her memory a second time.

  But Caleb caught Amy, holding her arms as she struggled and Mandi didn’t step nearly as far away as she should have. “Ame, no!”

  Finally Ms. Kim shook her head as if to clear it and shouted, “Hey! Everyone separate! NOW!” She might have been tiny, but damn if she wasn’t commanding.

  Amy and Caleb turned toward us with comically matching expressions of surprise; neither of them had any idea we were here. Mandi, on the other hand, turned on the dramatics. Tears shimmered in her eyes because, no matter that she wanted it to happen, it had to have hurt.

  “Ms. Kim! Oh, did you see! She hit me!”

  Ms. Kim absently touched her forehead. “Calm down, Miss Worthington.”

  “But…She—she hit me!”

  “Miss Worthington, enough!”

  Through all this, Amy was still taking deep, audible breaths, but her anger didn’t stop her brain from working. She glanced at Mandi, then between Ms. Kim and me, at my fingers slipping from the teacher’s arm. Her eyes met mine and I knew she understood.

  “How could I have?” Amy countered. “Caleb’s holding me.” And he was, despite that she’d stopped struggling. Up until Amy said his name, he’d been essentially frozen.

  Slowly, he dropped his arms, though his eyes stayed just as wide. “I…I didn’t…I’m sorry…Ame—”

  In the close contest for who was most confused, Mandi might actually have been winning. She took halting steps towards us, her eyes shining with those unshed tears and also growing frustration as her plan mysteriously unraveled. “She hit me! Right here!” She touched the spot on her cheek that was admittedly red
, but Ms. Kim no longer remembered why. “You saw it!” Her anger was bleeding away her evidence, and red was not a flattering color on her.

  “I saw no such thing. Calm down, Miss Worthington.”

  “Caleb, tell her,” Mandi pleaded. She took a step in his direction, momentarily turning her back to us. He wavered, like he might actually go to her, and I couldn’t believe she’d risk using her gift on a non-Sententia in front of Ms. Kim.

  Amy, who’d gone statue—cool and under control compared to Mandi’s simpering—uncrossed her arms, saying, “Nuh-uh, baby.” She touched his hand and, once again, the spell was broken.

  Caleb shook his head, looking a bit dazed and exactly like he wanted to hide in a hole. Right after someone explained to him what the hell was happening. He said the truest thing ever said: “I have no idea what’s going on here.”

  Ms. Kim made a sound like a whale, air escaping through her nose in an exasperated rush. “I empathize, Mr. Sullivan. Maybe Miss Young and I were just too far away to be sure what happened. Did you see Miss Moretti strike Miss Worthington?”

  Caleb shook his head and I could see it—he knew. Knew something was happening outside the bounds of what he could understand, and that I had done it. But he knew the right answer too. “She couldn’t have, right?” he lied. It was a subtle lie, but he couldn’t look at Ms. Kim while he did it, so he looked at me instead.

  Mandi, finally, looked at me too. “You BITCH! What did you do? You did something! How?! Caleb—” She tugged at his arm but he backed away from all of us. It was as if Amy and Mandi had switched places, Mandi’s former smugness sliding comfortably onto Amy’s face while Mandi herself went from red to blotchy and shook with fury.

  Shouting obscenities at another student wouldn’t get you probation, but it would sure get you detention. “I said enough, Miss Worthington,” Ms. Kim commanded. “Take your things and leave now while I file your detention slip. I’ll see you in class tomorrow, and again after last hour to discuss this.”

  Mandi was crying now. Great, big, angry drops falling with plunks on her cheeks and to the floor. “I’m telling my father about this and Senator Astor!”

  “See that you do. Good bye, Miss Worthington.”

  She ran from us, tears and blond hair flying behind her. At the end of the hall, she turned back just long enough to give me a final glare.

  Ms. Kim didn’t realize her threat was meant for me. And Mandi didn’t realize that, at this point, it was too late. What she told anyone no longer mattered.

  Amy and Caleb were alternately staring at each other and glancing in our direction. Ms. Kim rubbed her forehead again and took a deep breath in and out while I held mine. This was a teetering moment, and it could go either way. Amy was standing on a very fine line, and even though I’d managed to erase the worst of what she’d done, she could still be in trouble.

  And if it was anyone other than Ms. Kim, she probably would have been. Finally, she said, “And Miss Moretti, I’m going to give you a break. You might not have struck Miss Worthington, but you did try. You’ll owe me some service hours, but I won’t submit your slip. And I won’t be lenient if anything happens again.” In softer tones, she added, “I want to see one of my girls at the podium at graduation, and despite a few frustrations lately, I think you deserve to be there.”

  “Th…thanks,” Amy stammered. “Thank you. I’m sorry, Ms. Kim. Really.”

  “Well, Miss Young, I think that’s enough dramatics for me today. I have a splitting headache.” She opened the door to her classroom but stared down the hall where Mandi had disappeared. “Please make sure we don’t end up with another emergency meeting.”

  “I will.”

  “Okay, everybody.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “Disperse.”

  We turned to go, murmuring goodbyes and apologies, while Ms. Kim closed the door between us.

  As soon as the three of us were around the corner Amy burst into tears, and Caleb, still wide-eyed and dazed, said, “What just happened? What in the fuck just happened?”

  I, on the other hand, breathed a huge sigh of relief. At least one crisis was averted. It was a little messy, but totally salvageable. I counted it as a win. Now, just a few weeks and one more crisis to go. I only hoped my next one turned out as well.

  I put my arms around both of them and led them away. “C’mon, guys. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The day I was meant to die turned out to be beautiful. A perfect spring day of bright blue skies decorated with a handful of clouds, warm enough for short sleeves but not hot. It was the kind of day people lived for, that didn’t feel like anything bad could happen. It was just too nice. After a long, gray New England winter, summer felt like a possibility again—not long now. For most of us, a lengthy summer of freedom was just a day away. Graduation. Tomorrow.

  More than half the students were already gone, packed up and moved out as soon as their last final was over. Campus had been ringing with goodbyes and the crunch of car tires on gravel paths for days. Those of us left had plenty to occupy our time, with award nights and pictures, field trips and guests, and, of course, packing of our own. It was amazing how much stuff even I’d accumulated in just two years here.

  This afternoon was the Northbrook Family Picnic, and tonight, the Senior Bonfire. From my window, I could already see them setting up for both. I was supposed to die before either of them. Though I’d been fairly certain my death was scheduled for around graduation, I hadn’t been sure of the exact day until two days ago. That’s when Carter had said, “Hey, let’s go to the range on my morning off. One last time,” and I’d agreed.

  I knew we had to go there eventually, because that’s where he was going to kill me.

  At this point, I’d done everything I could. My family was already here, not wanting to miss the picnic today and other events. Not just Aunt Tessa and Uncle Martin, either. My grandparents—Aunt Tessa’s parents—and her brother, my uncle, too, had come for something as big as my graduation, giving me a chance to hug them all and tell them I loved them at least one more time.

  I’d added a few more great times with Amy and Caleb and our other friends to my memories. Amy knew what might be coming, but she hid it well, determined as I was to enjoy the end of our high school careers and believing without question my promise that I’d be okay. Every night before bed she’d ask me if she’d see me tomorrow and I always said yes. I’d had goodbyes with everyone who’d left, and had signed yearbooks with everyone else. My things were almost all packed and my life was, as much as it had ever been, in order.

  I wasn’t ready, but I was prepared.

  WE TOOK MY car—my new car, since the old one had been totaled—because I just wanted to drive once more while I had the chance. I insisted on stopping at Dad’s for breakfast, driving by the lake where we’d spent so many afternoons over the summer, and basically taking as much time as I thought we could afford. What would happen would happen whenever we got there. I hoped I kept the senator waiting.

  Technically he wasn’t scheduled to arrive until this evening, and officially I was sure he wouldn’t. No one but me knew he was already here, somewhere. I even knew what he’d be wearing. In fact, I’d known what Carter would wear today, too, before I’d seen him, which was strange and disconcerting. I kept glancing at him with a weird sense of déjà vu.

  For my own part, I’d intentionally picked out something different from what I’d predicted myself to be in. It was both a measure of control and a test. The first thing I’d done when I saw Carter this morning was re-check the vision. It reflected my change in attire.

  My murder was still right on schedule.

  Carter. He was the hardest part of the plan. As I pulled into the gun club’s parking lot, I watched him out of the corner of my eye. His beautiful face was open, completely unaware, and totally relaxed. He tapped his fingers on the dash in time with the radio and then flexed his wrists back and forth, in anticipation of shoo
ting. He caught me looking and smiled.

  Not for the first time I considered simply turning around. Not going in. Saving us both from what was inside. I’d thought about it countless times before but the vision had never changed. And I knew why too. I’d thought about not showing up, but never actually believed I wouldn’t come. If I didn’t go through with this, it didn’t mean I wouldn’t die; it meant I might not be able to change it.

  This was my best chance.

  I was so sorry for what might happen, for Carter’s part in it, but I had to believe he’d understand. He’d want me to take the chance, to do whatever I could to save myself. He’d said as much once before and I hoped it was true.

  The slamming of our car doors was loud to me, a very final kind of sound not unlike a gunshot. I ran my fingers across the car’s hood as my private goodbye while Carter picked up our gear bags, throwing them both over one shoulder. We fell in step next to each other as we headed toward the building. But before we went inside, before I never had the chance again, there was something I needed to say.

  “Carter?”

  I grabbed his hand so he’d stop and then tugged on it to make him come closer. I stepped right up to him, until we were touching, and he set down our bags to slip his arms around my waist. Perfect.

  “What’s up?”

  “I have something to tell you.”

  He frowned and I forced myself to laugh, to lighten the seriousness I hadn’t been able to keep from my voice. To make him think I was playing.

  I leaned in close and whispered, “I love you.”

  With a grin, he bent to kiss me, just a light touch of his lips to mine. “Oh, yeah?”

  “I’ll always love you. You’ll never forget that, right?”

  He still thought I was playing. “Hm. I don’t know. You’d better kiss me again to be sure.”

  So I did. There, in a parking lot in New Hampshire, I kissed him for all I was worth. I didn’t care who saw. In fact, I hoped everyone saw this girl who loved this boy more than anyone had a right to, beyond reason and maybe even sanity, and they’d remember too.