“Rough tackle,” Brandon muttered, hauling himself up. “That car….it came out of nowhere,” he mumbled under his breath. “Strange,” he glanced around, “Where’s the dude that pushed me out of the way? I owe him.”
“He left,” I replied, the phone in my hand ringing incessantly until I finally answered, saying quickly, “He’s alive,” and then hung up. Brandon sent me a curious glance, but was dazed enough not to question me. “I wish the guy had stuck around. I did manage to say thank you at least,” I chattered, my heart going a mile a minute as I scanned him, checking that he wasn’t hurt. He held up my gloves and I sat down, bursting into tears.
“Whoa, hey, it’s okay,” Brandon rushed to reassure me, patting my shoulder but when that didn’t slow the onslaught of tears, he tugged me into his lap, cradling me as he made soothing noises. “Its fine, we’re fine,” he repeated over and over, one hand smoothing my hair as the other gently squeezed my neck. The feel of his skin against mine made me cry harder as the realization of how close I’d come to losing him hit me again.
I lifted my head, forcing back the sobs that wanted to break free. “Hey,” he said, our faces inches apart. “You scared me there.”
“You scared me,” I retorted damply and he wiped the tears from my face.
“I didn’t meant to,” he promised, his fingers forming the Scout’s promise. “Swear.”
I shook my head, my heart beating faster as I leaned forward hesitantly. He didn’t move, watching me as I swayed closer, needing to feel him, to touch him. I pressed my lips to his the same way I’d pressed our fingers together and he pressed back, our lips molding to each another, giving shape and saying what words never could.
Chapter Seventeen
Hope
I paced the floor, my phone clutched in my hand as I waited for Joy to call me back. “He’s alive,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Fabulous. He’s alive. But what happened?” I growled, trying to rein in my impatience. I’d gotten a text, a freaking text, from Joy saying she was skipping with Brandon and then nothing. Nada. Radio silence.
When his countdown had ticked to the final seconds, then disappeared, I’d lost it. I’d known Joy was alive but had no clue what happened to Brandon. When she hadn’t answered the phone, I’d started to panic, thinking she was crying hysterically over his dead body or injured and unable to call for help. When she’d finally answered, I’d gotten a helpful, “He’s alive,” and here I was 3 hours, 14 minutes, and 37 seconds later waiting for her to tell me what happened.
I wanted to call Houston and ask him if he’d seen her, but was afraid of his response if he hadn’t. So I was stuck, wearing a path in the old oak floors, as I waited for Joy to finally call me back. Dad rambled in the room, sparing me a glance as he cracked a beer. “Fight with the boyfriend?”
“For the last time, he’s not my boyfriend,” I shouted. “And no.” I clenched my hands, my knuckles turning white around my phone as I took a deep breath. “More like a fight with my sister.” I didn’t miss the way his eye twitched and every bit of oxygen disappeared from my body in a rush. “Dad,” I breathed, the single word a plea.
“Your mom had a plan for this day,” he told me, sinking down onto the couch, the beer forgotten in his hand. I walked over to him hesitantly and he patted the cushion next to him. “Come sit by your old man.” I perched on the edge of the seat, my anxiety over Joy replaced by a gut wrenching fear of what he was about to tell me. “First off, you need to understand your mom loved you more than anything. So do I,”
I spoke past the thickness in my throat. “I know that, Dad. I know you both loved me. I never doubted that. I just need to know where I come from.”
Dad’s hand shook as he set his beer on the worn coffee table. “Your mom just wanted to tell you that you were adopted. A private adoption.” He glanced at me. “She never wanted you to question who your real parents were.” He shook his head. “I never wanted you to go poking into the past. Nothing good lies there,” he warned me.
“I know who my real parents are,” I assured him. “But I think I might need to understand my past.”
He sighed, nodding in acceptance, and I noticed the hair at his temples had become more silver than black. “I worked as a janitor at a medical facility. They conducted experiments in the basement.” He took my hand, making me realize how cold it was. “It was all hush hush, government funded stuff. I didn’t ask questions, I just cleaned the building….until one night.” My fingers curled around his hand, clinging tightly. “One night, a woman in scrubs came to me, a baby wrapped in a striped blanket in her arms. She handed the baby to me and told me to take care of her.” His gaze was unfocused, lost in the past. “I didn’t know what to say, or do for that matter. Your mom and I had been trying for so long, adoptions were expensive, and here was someone handing me the one thing we’d dreamed of.” I blew out a breath, picturing it, and was suddenly grateful the woman had handed me to him. “She had one of those face masks on, you know, the ones doctors and nurses wear.” I nodded. “I didn’t recognize her, but it wasn’t surprising since I cleaned after hours. I took you from her and you just stared up at me, hours old but your eyes were wide open.” He patted my hand, a soft smile gracing his face. “You were perfect.” He took a shaky breath, his expression changing. “She told me to leave, said to never come back, to find a new town and build a life far from there.”
I leaned into his shoulder, awed by his decision to keep me. “You sacrificed so much.”
“No,” he disagreed. “We were blessed beyond measure.” He glanced at me, his smile damp. “I held you as I drove home that night. You never made a peep. I was so scared someone would take you from me.” He inhaled. “When I got home, your mom,” he blinked back tears. “As long as I live, I will never forget her face.” He turned to me. “You were her miracle. We packed what we could in the car that night and left. Drove until the car wouldn’t go any further.” He looked around the room affectionately. “We made a life here and vowed to never speak of the past again. You were, and always will be, our first priority.”
I kissed his cheek. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you, Hope.”
***
When I went to my car the next morning, I was astonished to see Joy and Houston standing beside it. Joy waved at me eagerly while Houston had his arms crossed, his expression indecipherable.
I pointed to Joy. “You never called me,” I accused, yanking open my door.
“I’m sorry,” she cried, hurrying to get in the car in case I decided to leave without her.
I glanced at Houston, my eyebrows raised.
“She wanted to ride with you,” he explained, his jaw tense as he reached for the door handle to get in the back seat.
I cocked my hip, preventing him from opening the door. “Are we using her as an excuse now?” His eyes flashed but he didn’t release the door handle.
“I’m here,” he remarked. “You can take it how you want.” His tone was dismissive, but his eyes gave him away and he seemed surprised when I smiled.
“Don’t worry, I will,” I assured him airily, sliding into the car, and leaving him to the backseat. “What happened yesterday?” I asked immediately and Joy glanced in the back. “Tell me,” I insisted, not caring what Houston heard or how he interpreted it.
“We went to get ice cream,” she mentioned slowly, clearly editing. “Then I wanted to swing in the park. A car almost hit Brandon.”
“You were with Brandon?” Houston growled, his head popping in between the seats. “When was this?”
“Yesterday,” I snapped. “Keep up and quit interrupting.” My gaze flickered sideways. “So, you pushed Brandon out of the way of this car?”
“No,” she replied, shaking her head and I shot her a confused glance. “Some guy in a hoodie came out of nowhere and saved him.”
“Some guy,” I said carefully and she nodded rapidly. “This guy have a name?”
“No, he ran off before I could
even say thank you.”
“Okay, strange.”
“Why is that strange? It’s a park. Random guy does a good deed, but doesn’t want to hang around for the parade in his honor,” Houston interjected. “Nothing strange about that.”
“Do you believe me?” I asked, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror and his jaw worked. “Yeah, so remember what I said about interrupting? Mmmhmmm. Do that.” He slammed back against the seat, not saying another word.
“What did this guy look like?” I questioned, an itchy feeling between my shoulders. Nothing about what happened made sense, least of all a random savior in a hoodie.
“I didn’t see his face,” Joy answered, sounding apologetic. I sighed, flipping my blinker on as I came to the school parking lot, knowing it’d be unlikely we could find this guy. “But I did see he had a tattoo,” she exclaimed, smiling hopefully. I nodded for her to continue and she held up her wrist. “It was right here, on the inside of his arm, I saw it when his sleeve got pushed up,” she explained, pointing at the area on her own covered arm. “It was different, like a watch or –”
“A compass,” I stated.
“Yeah,” she agreed, nodding slowly. “Exactly like a compass.” I felt her questioning gaze. “How did you know?”
“I’ve seen it before,” I answered briefly, pulling into a parking space. “Everybody out. 2 minutes and 13 seconds before first bell.” Houston didn’t hear me, his door slamming shut on my words and I made a shooing motion to Joy.
“We’re not finished,” she admonished and I gave her a look.
“I’ve seen it. That’s it. Like you, I couldn’t tell you what the guy looked like.” I slung my backpack on my shoulder, hurrying to the building. “But I did see him in the hall.” I glanced at the school meaningfully and understanding dawned on her. That meant he was most likely a student, except there hadn’t been any other new students besides Houston and Joy.
“Lunch?” She questioned and I nodded. I was eager to take a peek at Brandon and verify his expiration date had changed, hopefully to one a few decades away.
I was at my locker, swapping books, when Amber came up beside me. “What are you doing?”
“Getting my books,” I deadpanned.
“Why?”
“So I’m not late for class,” I replied, casting a sideways glance her way. She had on one of the school shirts and jeans, not her usual attire. “What are you doing?”
“Seriously?” She screeched, and my head shot up. “You don’t remember?” She slammed her hand against my locker door and I barely kept my fingers from getting jammed. “We are doing service hours today.” Her fingers drummed against the locker. “It’s supposed to look good on our college applications. At least that’s what you told me when I signed us up.”
“You up,” I corrected and she shook her head.
“Us,” she enunciated and I turned to give her an exasperated look. I hated when she did stuff like that. My anger dried up as I looked at her, my world tipping sideways, and I braced myself against the locker. A sick feeling crawled through me and she gave me a worried glance. “What’s wrong?” She glanced over her shoulder as the bell rang, laughing nervously. “Seriously, you’re staring at me like the Grim Reaper is standing over my shoulder.”
I nodded, trying to force my frozen face into something less terrifying, but the truth was….I was terrified. Absolutely, beyond anything I’d ever felt, terrified. “I have to go to the bathroom,” I managed, running toward the girl’s restroom, making it to the stall just in time. I heard a faucet come on as I finished retching and Amber handed me a wet towel.
“Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on?” She asked, sitting cross legged on the sticky bathroom floor as I knelt in front of the toilet. “You’ve always been,” she paused, searching for the right word, finally settling on, “A loner. Being your friend is the most challenging thing I’ve ever done in my life, but it’s always been worth it.” She leaned her head back against the stall wall, her face worried. “But then Houston showed up and something changed. Then Joy and then the other guy.” I wanted to ask who the other guy was, but she wasn’t finished. “Now, you forget we’re supposed to volunteer at the Head Start and you look at me like,” she stopped, casting her eyes up. “You look at me like I’m going to die any second.”
I licked my dry lips, wincing at the disgusting taste in my mouth as I murmured, “2 weeks, 8 hours, 39 minutes, and 10 seconds. To be precise.”
She stated at me uncomprehendingly and I clarified, “Until you die. That’s why I’m looking at you like that. Because you’re going to die and you’re not supposed to.”
“I’m not supposed to,” she repeated faintly and I sat down on the floor with her, wrapping my arms around my knees.
“You were supposed to live until you were 105, plus a few days,” I explained. “But something changed.” I had a feeling I knew what had changed but until I could lay eyes on him, I wouldn’t know for sure.
“Give or take a few days,” she echoed, her gaze eerily blank and I started to get worried.
“Don’t worry,” I hurried to add. “We’re going to fix it.”
“Who is we?” Her gaze sharpened as she honed in on what I said. “Who is we?” She demanded again and I flinched. “Hope, tell me.”
“Joy and I,” I answered and then added after a second, “And possibly a guy in a black hoodie.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “Mercy?”
“You know him?” I questioned, my tone accusing.
“Not exactly,” she hedged and gave me a quick frown. “That’s beside the point. You just told me I’m going to die and the scary part is I believe you.”
Chapter Eighteen
Hope
And the scary part is I believe you. The words echoed in my head as we rode the bus to the Head Start Pre-K where we were supposed to do arts and crafts with the kids as part of our school’s Give Back and Volunteer program. Amber hadn’t said anything more, but she was sitting next to me, so I took that as a positive sign. I kept sneaking glances toward her, but she maintained her normal, perky cheerleader expression, not seeming bothered by the fact that I’d just told her she only had two weeks to live.
My hands clenched into fists as I considered what it meant. Brandon not dying had changed things and as I glanced at Amber again, I was afraid whatever we had done had only made it worse.
“Will you quit eyeing me like I’m about to drop dead any second?” She hissed, not even glancing at me and I jerked reflexively. “We have two weeks.”
“And 7 hours, 57 minutes, and 26 seconds,” I mentioned and this time she did look over, glaring at me. “I just wanted you to know we had more time,” I responded defensively and her expression eased, a reluctant laugh escaping her. “I can’t believe you can laugh,” I told her. “I can’t laugh.”
“I can’t help but think my mom was right,” she mused and I glanced at her questioningly. “I should have studied more.” I looked at her in disbelief and she shrugged. “You said I was supposed to live until I was 105. I might need that education.” A startled laugh burst from me and she giggled. “Now, I know why you were always after me to do my own work.”
“You’re still going to live to 105,” I told her fiercely. “We’re going to fix this.”
“I know we are.” She leaned in. “So, are you like, superheroes?”
Before I could answer, the bus pulled up to the school. I shook my head, a faint smile on my face at the idea. We were split into groups and directed to classrooms, Amber sticking by me when they tried to put her with someone else. She pointed at me. “She has anxiety and I’m her emotional support person.” She said it with such conviction they waved us on and I barely stopped myself from snorting and giving her away.
“Emotional support? You should have just called yourself my crutch,” I said, laughing as we walked into the classroom full of 4 year olds. I stopped as thirty faces looked up at us. “This might be the most terrifying thing
I’ve ever done,” I said, gulping.
“We can do this,” Amber replied, shifting so she was behind me. “We’re bigger than them.”
I nodded, “Uh huh,” I murmured, zero confidence in my voice. My gaze swept over them, not worried about expiration dates since it was rare to see a little kid with one that wasn’t at least a decade away. I skipped right over the blond boy picking his nose until what I’d seen registered. My gaze came back to him as a cold sensation settled in my chest.
“How long are we supposed to be here?” I asked Amber as she started sorting the supplies for our craft project. She didn’t glance up as she said, “A couple of hours. We rotate classes.” My breath shuddered from me as I focused on the little boy who was going to die in 42 minutes and 12 seconds if I didn’t stop it.
“Okay,” I answered, my voice coming out squeaky and I cleared my throat. “I’ll hand out the stuff.”
We went through the steps for the craft project, my focus more on the little boy than what we were actually supposed to be doing. I quickly found out his name was Blake and he had a death wish.
I rushed to grab the little plastic scissors from him when he ran past me with them in his sweaty little hands, and had to wrest a sharp crayon out of his grip when he tripped with it pointing at his eye. I plucked him off the table when he tried to fly and almost performed the Heimlich when he choked getting water from the fountain.
I was about to dart after him again when Amber yanked me back. “What are you doing?” She hissed under her breath, a bright smile still plastered across her face. “You keep following that kid around and watching him and it’s weird.” I glanced at her, widening my eyes as I jerked my head to him and her mouth formed an O. “Is he going to…” she trailed off, her finger slashing across her throat and I gave an exasperated eye roll.
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