Forever, Again

by Victoria Laurie

  “Will you help me study for the exam?”

  I put both hands on his chest, never more in love with him. “Yes, I’ll help you study, absolutely.”

  “Well, okay, then,” he said. “We’ll work on the application this weekend and I’ll sign up for the SAT at the end of the month. I’ll also talk to Coach and ask him to send out a letter to their coach right away. They’ve got a bitchin’ team, Bambi. I could play for them.”

  “Oh my God, Spence, you mean it?”

  “Shit yeah,” he said, cupping my cheeks. “We’re in this together, remember? You and me. Forever.”

  My eyes blurred with fresh tears. “What about your mom and Stacey?”

  I knew it was the one thing that could break the spell, but it wouldn’t do me any good to give into the fantasy if it never had a chance of happening. The only way that Spence’s family had been able to make ends meet was with the addition of Spence’s income from all the lawns he mowed. His plan had been to go to UVA and live at home to help his mom cover expenses.

  “Mom’s been talking about picking up a couple of extra houses now that Spunky can stay home by herself,” he said. “And I can always work a job out there and send money back. As long as I can get a football scholarship, we could make it work.”

  And of course he’d get one. UVA had already offered him a full ride, and a few other schools were also showing interest. UCLA would probably jump at the chance to have someone as good as Spence on their team. So, could it be that easy? I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him over and over. “You’re the best boyfriend ever!”

  He laughed, but then he sobered and cupped my cheek. “We’re in this together,” he said again. “Don’t forget that, okay?”

  “Never,” I told him. “I’ll never forget that, Spence.”

  I FORGOT MY COMBINATION. Standing at my locker, I spun the dial around and around but couldn’t remember the first digits. Putting my forehead against the cool metal door, I closed my eyes and took a deep calming breath.

  “Come on, Lily,” I whispered to myself. “Think.”

  “Not enough coffee this morning?” I heard someone say.

  My eyes popped open, and I glanced over my shoulder. Cole stood there looking a little shy, but beautiful all the same.

  “Hey,” I said, surprised to see him. “I…uh…the locker…the combo…it…something.” My shoulders sagged. I was almost too tired to talk.

  He cocked his head as if trying to figure out my secret language. “Wow,” he said. “You picked the wrong day to give up caffeine.”

  “I can’t remember the locker combination,” I said, pointing to the stupid knob.

  “All three numbers or just the first one?”

  “Uh…just the first one,” I told him, wondering how he knew.

  “Maybe I can help,” he said. “Answer these questions as fast as you can, ready?”

  I stared at him for a beat. “Okay.”

  “Close your eyes; it works better that way.”

  I felt a little stupid, but I did as he suggested.

  “What’s your birthday?”

  “October fifteenth.”

  “What’s your phone number?”

  “Eight-zero-four-five-five-five-seven-one-three-four.”

  “How old is your mom?”

  “Forty”—I had to think—“three.”

  “How many cousins do you have?”

  “Seven.”

  “What’s eight plus fifteen?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “What’s the first number of your locker combo?”

  “Seventeen.” My eyes flew open in surprise. “Ohmigod, seventeen! Thank you!”

  Cole beamed at me. “I had a feeling that’d work out,” he said.

  I turned and quickly opened my locker, realizing that at some point I was going to have to face the music and explain to him about the panic attack.

  “So, about yesterday,” I said.

  He leaned against the locker next to me and played with his phone. “You okay?” he asked me.

  His question caught me off guard. “Yeah,” I said. “Totally.”

  “I would’ve sent you a text,” he said. “But I didn’t have your number.”

  “Oh, sorry. I…it’s…” And then my phone pinged with an incoming text. Momentarily distracted, I took it out and saw that it was from a number I didn’t recognize. The text read:

  Hi Lily. It’s Cole. Checking on you. You okay?

  It dawned on me that Cole had gotten me to say my phone number out loud. “Pretty clever,” I said with a grin.

  “Works every time,” he said. Then he got serious. “So…what happened, exactly?”

  I hesitated, still more than a little embarrassed about having a panic attack right in front of him. “My parents’ split and the move and all the other stuff has been really hard. I started to have panic attacks about a week ago.”

  “Whoa,” he said. “That sucks.”

  “Sorry I freaked out on you,” I told him as my gaze shifted to the floor.

  “Hey,” he said to get my attention. When I looked up he smiled sweetly at me, as if he totally understood. “Don’t sweat it, okay? It’s cool.”

  Relief washed over me. “Thanks,” I said. “For everything.”

  “Sure,” he said easily. And then he seemed to want to say something else, but hesitated. I had a feeling I knew what was coming, but I hoped that maybe he’d let it go.

  He didn’t. “There’s just one thing that I don’t get, Lily. How did you know where my grandmother lives? And, how did you know that my middle name was Spencer?”

  Of course everything that’d happened in Dr. White’s office had given me an explanation, but it just seemed so out there, so crazy, so unbelievable to think that Amber Greeley and I were connected through reincarnation. And yet…

  “I swear I’m not some weird stalker,” I said quickly. Just then the warning bell for first period sounded. “Listen, can we talk later? After school? I promise I’ll explain everything.”

  Cole studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “That’s cool,” he said, but something had shifted. “Meet you here at quarter after one?”

  The school district had given us a half day of school at the end of our first week, so we’d get to go home early.

  “Yeah, that’ll work,” I told him.

  He offered me a quick nod and headed off. I had no idea what I’d say to explain everything to him. What could I say to him that he’d not only believe, but accept?

  I’d been thinking and thinking about it ever since leaving Dr. White’s office, and considering myself the reincarnated soul of a girl who’d lived and died in Fredericksburg, Virginia, some thirty years ago was almost more than I could process. But, much as I tried to figure out another explanation, I just couldn’t. Nothing else could fully explain what’d been happening to me. And if I took it from the standpoint that I was Amber Greeley reincarnated, then almost everything clicked into place. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I had to admit that it simply felt right.

  I hadn’t absolutely accepted it as fact, yet, but I was pretty close.

  Still…I didn’t know how Cole would react to the theory, and I especially didn’t know how he would react to the concept of my being the reincarnated soul of the person who’d supposedly murdered his uncle. I pulled out my phone as I walked to class and thought for the hundredth time about calling Sophie to tell her what’d been going on. I needed an ally, someone to tell me I wasn’t totally crazy, someone who’d believe me simply because I said I was telling the truth…but I knew that I couldn’t reach out to her. There wasn’t enough time to explain it all, and she was probably in class, and I was still so hurt and angry with her. So I was on my own with this until I talked it out with Cole, and that was certainly something to sweat about until the end of the day.

  A few hours later I hurried to my locker and checked my phone. Mom had sent a text to call her right away.

&n
bsp; “Hi,” I said, cradling the phone between my shoulder and ear while I shoveled books into my backpack. “What’s up?”

  “Hi, baby,” she said, with a pitch of excitement in her voice. “I got a call from Dr. Van Dean himself about an hour ago. He’s seen the recording of your session last night, and spoken with Dr. White, and he said that he’s anxious to talk to us. Can you pick me up from the hospital at three thirty and we’ll drive into Richmond together?”

  My breath caught. “Today?” I said. “He wants to see me today?”

  “Yes.” There was a pause, then: “I think it’s a good idea, lovey. You had the nightmare again last night, and I’m worried about the restorative sleep you’re supposed to be getting and aren’t. Plus, these panic attacks keep catching you by surprise, and I think with all the added stress of the divorce and the move and the new school, it’s just too much, baby. If Dr. Van Dean can help us figure this out, and give you some peace of mind, then I think we should go see him as soon as possible and hear what he has to say.”

  I leaned wearily against the locker, reminded about the intensity of the dream from the night before. I hadn’t told Mom, but the nightmare had morphed into a combination of the boy in the field and someone murdering me in a yellow bedroom, and I had to really wonder if that was the way Amber actually died. It was so horrifying, so painful, so terrifying. Nobody deserved to die like that. Nobody. But I had the strong sense that that’s exactly what had happened to Amber, and it was so awful that I’d woken up screaming. Mom had held me most of the night to comfort me. She’d also gotten very little sleep herself, and I knew she, too, was already running on empty.

  “Okay,” I agreed. “I’m in.”

  We made arrangements about where to meet and then I clicked off with her to go back to shoveling books into my bag. “Hey, Lily,” said a familiar voice. I turned.

  “Hi, Cole,” I said, offering him a smile.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I could eat.”

  “Cool,” he said. “I’m starving. Wanna get lunch?”

  I nodded eagerly. I was actually famished. We walked together and Cole said, “Mexican work for ya?”

  “It does,” I told him.

  “Okay if I drive?” he asked, and there was something about the way he said it that suggested he was making light of what happened yesterday.

  “It is as long as you didn’t lock your keys in the car.” I grinned and nudged him with my elbow.

  He chuckled and held up his hand to show me the keys in his palm. “I’ve got both sets on me, just in case.”

  “Phew,” I deadpanned. “That could’ve been awkward.”

  Cole took me to a small shack of a place a few miles south of school. It didn’t look like much, which was fine, because I was pretty anxious, and if he’d taken me someplace fancy, that would have felt like a date. When we sat down, I simply stared at my food, trying to find the words to explain what was going on with me.

  “Hey,” Cole said. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but I swear it’s awesome.”

  Obviously, he mistook my hesitation for skepticism about the food, so, to set his mind at ease, I bit into the burrito, and couldn’t help the small moan that was inspired by the burst of flavors in my mouth. “Ohmigod,” I mumbled, and placed a hand in front of my lips as I chewed.

  “Right?” he said with a smile.

  We both chewed in silence and that moment of awkwardness I’d been dreading seemed to have arrived.

  “So, what did you want to tell me?” he asked almost casually.

  I set down my burrito. It was time to fess up. I’d come up with a plan during school, and it was super-risky, but I didn’t think I could convince him any other way.

  “Okay,” I began, having rehearsed my speech a number of times in my head. “This is kind of a long story, and you’re probably gonna think I’m nuts, but just promise that you’ll hear me out before you decide.”

  Cole furrowed his brow and cocked his head slightly, as if waiting for me to deliver a punch line. “Okaaaaaaaay…” he finally said.

  I took a deep breath and dove in.

  “I started having this recurring nightmare when I was about four years old,” I told him. “It was always the same dream, starting out with me wearing a light-blue dress and entering a field that was on fire. There was always this feeling that I needed to reach the middle of the field or something terrible would happen, and I had to dodge the flames as I went. Each time, I tried to get there as fast as I could, but no matter what I did, I was always too late. Every time, once I reach the center of the field I find this boy—he’s about our age—and he’s dead. He’s staring up at the sky lifelessly, and each and every time I discover him, it’s like a knife right to my heart. It’s the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever felt. It destroys me, and I sink down next to him and try to hold him close to me, but I always wake up at that exact moment, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve just lost someone I loved more than anyone else in the world.

  “Now,” I continued, “the really weird thing is that, until yesterday, I had no idea who the boy was.”

  I snuck a quick glance at Cole and he was looking back at me, intrigued. “I’m with you,” he said with a nod of encouragement.

  I took another deep breath. “I used to have the dream only once or sometimes twice a year. It always cropped up right around spring. But then, when we moved here, I started having it every night. Like, every night. And I couldn’t figure out why. And there’ve also been small things that I haven’t been able to explain. Like, there are parts of Fredericksburg that seem so familiar to me, but I swear I’ve never seen them before. And that goes for some of the people, too.”

  I bit my lip, staring once again at my lap. Man, it was hard to say this stuff out loud to somebody who I was really beginning to like. I didn’t know if my recently broken heart could take it if Cole ended up thinking I was crazy.

  “Anyway,” I continued, “a few days after we moved here and the nightmare started showing up every night, I also started having panic attacks. Mom thought they were from all the stress of the move and lack of sleep and the divorce and stuff, but when I had that really bad panic attack at your grandmother’s house, Mom took me to see a shrink.”

  My lip quivered with the arrival of unexpected emotion. Even though I knew it was misplaced, there was a part of me that felt a little ashamed at having to go see a psychiatrist to talk about what was going on with me. I cleared my throat.

  “So we saw this guy, Dr. White, yesterday. He said he wanted to hypnotize me to see why my subconscious kept creating the nightmare. I thought it was a little weird, but I’m so tired from not being able to sleep that I figured it couldn’t hurt. He recorded the session, which I don’t remember at all. It was like I was listening to his voice one second and then I was asleep and he was waking me up again. It felt like I’d just nodded off, and then I jerked awake, but that’s not what really happened.”

  Again my lip began to tremble and my vision blurred with tears. I didn’t know if Cole could tell I was close to losing it or not because my gaze was fixed on my lap. I tried to get ahold of myself, but I couldn’t seem to push back the wave of emotion enough to risk speaking again. So I sat there for a minute and just focused on breathing in and out.

  “Lily?” Cole said gently.

  I swallowed hard and said, “Yeah?”

  “What really happened?”

  I lifted my chin and found Cole leaning toward me, his expression earnest and sincere. Instead of answering him, I lifted my phone out of my backpack along with a set of earbuds. Dr. White had sent me home with a copy of the video, and I figured the only way to convince Cole that I wasn’t flat-out crazy was to have him see it for himself.

  “Here,” I said, crossing my fingers that I was about to do the right thing by tapping the screen to call up the session. “See for yourself.”

  Cole cocked his head again curiously, but he didn’t hesitate to put
in the earbuds and press PLAY.

  I waited anxiously as he watched the recording. I kept trying to read his facial expression, to brace myself for that moment that he threw off the earbuds and told me I was nuts. Worse, what if he didn’t say anything at all? I could just imagine the terrible scenario where he’d avoid making eye contact with me at school, and what if he told everybody else what I’d confessed to him here? What if everyone ultimately thought I was the crazy new girl?

  All of these thoughts swirled round and round in my mind as Cole stayed riveted to the screen. At last he sat back in his chair, and pulled out the earbuds. “Whoa,” he said.

  I dropped my gaze to my lap again. What did that even mean? “Pretty freaky, huh?” I said, forcing myself to look up at him again. “He thinks I might be Amber…reincarnated.”

  Cole pushed a hand through his hair. “This is so crazy,” he whispered.

  I nodded, my gaze returning to my lap. It was crazy. It totally was. It was also overwhelming and scary and, well, big. “I think that’s why I called you Spence the first time I met you,” I confessed. “I think that ever since I moved back to Fredericksburg, Amber has been creeping into my mind. You look a lot like the boy in the field from my dream.”

  “That’s why you drove us to my grandma’s house?” he said. “You were going to Spence’s?”

  I risked looking up again. His question gave me a little hope that maybe he believed me, or that he was at least open to the idea. “I think so,” I said. “I mean, I was just driving, I wasn’t even thinking at the time. The route felt like something I’d driven before, and it wasn’t until you asked me how I’d gotten us there that I realized I’d never actually been to that house in my life.