Prophecy

by Julie Anne Lindsey

  “Mi casa es su casa,” he said in the strongest southern drawl and worst Spanish ever.

  What about the awkward conversation? “I wanted to talk to you. How long will you work with your dad today?”

  This triggered an unexpected response. Justin moved again, bringing the toes of our shoes together. He looked at me from the half a foot in height between us and his expression simmered with emotion. “We have all night Friday to sort things out.”

  A lump formed in my throat and I couldn’t swallow. Justin was all in and I was about to bail. I didn’t want to hurt him. I opened my mouth, but the bell cut me off. People scurried to classes. Three minutes before the tardy bell. Not even close to enough time to start this discussion.

  “You feeling okay?” He rubbed my arm with one palm.

  “Tired. I’m not sleeping well.”

  “Up too late?” Concern furrowed his brow.

  “Bad dreams.” Nightmares. Crows pecking through the glass in my bedroom window. Glowing green symbols in the cemetery carving themselves into my head. Waking to a woman’s scream. The usual.

  Above a hundred heads, one face stood out, drawing my attention like a beacon. Liam caught my eye and almost smiled before disappearing from view. Justin leaned in, blocking everything else out. He pressed a palm to my shoulder and his lips against the top of my head as Liam reached us.

  Justin’s smile was brilliant, content, and proud.

  Liam’s frown was a mash-up of confusion, hurt, and concern.

  I managed an awkward smile, my mouth twisted with anxiety and poor timing.

  Liam’s steps slowed a second before regaining his steady pace. He turned his head as he passed, watching as Justin noticed him and took my hand. A puff of air hit my bangs. This situation was made for television, and I wasn’t remotely suave enough to navigate the storm brewing around me without a script and better lighting. Last week I’d ghosted through my days, avoiding Kirk’s wrath and counting the minutes until I swam again. This week I seemed to wear flashing neon, and the desire to sit beside Liam in class held more intrigue than any number of laps in the pool after school.

  Justin tugged my hand, towing me toward homeroom at a clip. “Something you want to tell me?”

  “Yeah. I told you I wanted to talk.” I hustled along beside him, taking two steps for every one of his.

  We stopped at my homeroom door. Justin’s jaw moved side to side.

  He examined my expression, apparently not liking what he found there. “Shit.” His shoulders rounded. He dropped my hand and looked at the big clock above us on the wall. We only had seconds.

  “Justin,” I started lamely.

  The bell rang.

  “Shit.” His tight smile said the rest. He saw through me and recognized my interest in Liam for what it was: intense, premature, and stupid. He groaned and paced backward away from me, shaking his head, while holding my gaze. “I’m coming over tonight. We’re going to talk about this.” He turned and ran in the direction of his homeroom.

  * * * *

  Ohio History continued in the uncomfortable pattern of my life. First, Hannah strolled in behaving as if I hadn’t seen her messed up last night. Then again, who was I? Liam slid into his seat beside me ten seconds before the tardy bell, giving me a cursory glance and a quick nod. Very friendly. Mrs. Potter called the class to order and my chance to explain myself to Liam evaporated. Not that I owed him an explanation.

  “I trust you’ve all had time to look over Haunted Ohio, thumbed through the stories and read more than the table of contents, yes?” Mrs. Potter peered behind the stacks of books, files, and coffee mugs littering her desk.

  Half the class swiveled in their seats to look at Liam.

  “Excellent. We’re pairing up for the project.” Mrs. Potter collected a stack of folders and moved to the front of her desk.

  “I’ll be your partner,” Hannah whispered, hanging an elbow over the back of her chair and turning to face Liam. Her long honey highlights bobbed in ringlets at the bottom, bouncing against the back of her chair.

  “No.” Liam looked past her like always, as if she wasn’t there.

  “Miss Snyder?” Mrs. Potter handed her a folder. “You and Miss Spencer will be partners.” Zoe Spencer looked like someone slapped her face. Her eyes stretched wide and her cheeks beamed red. Mrs. Potter had hit her over the head with a bitchstick in the form of her partner.

  The class erupted in whispers. No one wanted their partner assigned.

  “Mr. Hale. Miss Ingram.” Mrs. Potter slid a folder onto our table and moved on, calling names and delivering paperwork.

  “Given the book I selected this summer and the new addition to our classroom, I’d have to grade twelve papers on Chapter six. This saves me time and reduces redundancy. The partnership is for collaboration, but you will each complete an individual paper on the chapter inside your folder. I’ve included additional resources and past papers on similar locations for reference. You may take the remainder of class to get acclimated with one another and the location assigned. Remember, your paper is about the historical significance of the location.”

  Liam flipped open the plain manila folder with a number six written on the tab. Hale Manor. Shocking. Except, it was a shock to Liam. His eyes widened as he examined the papers inside our folder. His last name typed neatly across the top of each page. Hale Manor, local focal point of all things urban legend and folklore. He snagged his book off the table and flipped through the pages, stopping at an old black and white photo of his current home. A low guttural sound vibrated through him. A groan of horror, I suspected. He read the first page of the chapter before looking around the room and finally at me.

  “Yeah,” I sighed the word.

  His lips rolled into a tight white line. The muttering he let out sounded mostly like curses. Some I knew but a few I recognized in tone and gusto only. He turned the page and continued reading. Thirty minutes later, he hadn’t looked up from his book.

  Hannah packed her bag, waiting for the bell, and turned in her seat, ready for another try with Liam, who didn’t look up.

  “What are you looking at?” she snapped when I caught her getting ignored again.

  “Feeling better today?” I wasn’t sure where my mean streak came from this week.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her flippant tone suggested I was stupid. Her eyes warned me to shut the hell up.

  Liam bolted out the door at the bell. My gut clenched and rolled with concern. Surely he’d known the speculation surrounding his home before seeing the words in print. He must have. Putting myself in his situation made my nausea worse. What if I’d moved to a new country where everyone at my new school grew up on horror stories of my family home? I didn’t have words to describe the awfulness or a single clue how to comfort him

  I didn’t see Liam at lunch and he skipped study hall. My tummy swirled with anticipation, draining me of my already limited energy. At least we had detention together, assuming he showed. I drifted into a trance during my last two classes, existing somewhere between asleep and awake. In English, the teacher’s voice became a backdrop to a weightless sensation. During Calculus, we had a test. The numbers on my sheet swirled into a vortex of symbols. They were the runes I’d researched through the night, learning nothing from endless contradictory websites. The same ones present in my nightmare.

  The screeching bell jerked me awake. My test stuck to one cheek as I lifted my head off the desk. Students filed into the hallway, dropping their papers onto the teacher’s desk as they passed. I rubbed my eyes and prayed for a makeup exam. I didn’t remember solving a single problem, and I couldn’t get a zero and a scholarship. When my eyes focused, I didn’t see the blank paper I expected. Heavy pencil scratches in the shape of Liam’s rune covered the test. The mark covered every square inch of the paper, written over the problems and along the margins in so many different sizes that the white of the paper barely show
ed through. I stuffed the paper into my bag and bolted for the back door of my classroom. Turning in a paper like that would land me back in the school shrink’s office, someplace I hadn’t been since childhood. I planned to keep it that way.

  I swam harder than I had all week, desperate for the outlet, hoping to make up for my lack of concentration and a way to busy my mind. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Breathe. Repeat. Chlorine stung my eyes and nose, burning my throat a bit when I caught a mouthful on my final lap. My lungs ached from exertion, and I welcomed the springy feeling in my bones when I pulled my legs back onto dry land.

  Coach clapped from the doorway of his office.

  I ducked my head and waved. It wasn’t my imagination then. My times had improved. Hope rose in my chest. I could get a scholarship. Get a degree. Get a life. All of the above without asking Dad for help.

  * * * *

  Cool wind whipped hair into my eyes. The fading light of an enormous setting sun cast scarlet rays on my world. I lifted a hand to the horizon like a child reaching for the images in a 3-D movie. Some days the sunset seemed close enough to burn me. I squinted my way along the sidewalk and into the empty parking lot. A black Mercedes sat across three spaces. Liam had said he’d stopped giving Oliver a ride home. I looked over my shoulder to the football field where trucks lined the perimeter.

  Liam climbed from the driver’s seat and levered sunglasses onto his head. “May I drive you home?”

  “I’m fine.” Lies. I was shaken, confused, and a little hurt.

  “It’s no trouble. You’re on my way.” His mouth curved into a crooked smile, revealing a line of straight, white teeth.

  Confident he had me, Liam walked to the passenger door and opened it. I counted to ten before accepting. He closed the door behind me and rounded the hood back to his place behind the wheel.

  “Where were you all day?” My snotty tone gave him all the power. Clearly, his absence had affected me, while it hadn’t bothered him at all to be away from me. The only thing worse than my thinly veiled obsession was the fact it wasn’t mutual.

  He shifted into gear and shot me a look. “I needed time. The day didn’t start off as I planned.”

  I blanched at the memory of Justin kissing my head. Had it bothered him so much he left school? “Then, I discovered the entire state of Ohio thinks my family is possessed. Today wasn’t my best day.” The quiet engine purred under his control. Liam moved the gearshift without effort, seeming lost in thought down Oak Street to Maple before sliding against the curb outside my home.

  “So, you came back to school and waited for me, so you could drive me four blocks home?”

  “It’s what friends do, isn’t it?”

  “They also talk, you know. They talk and you aren’t talking.” I unlatched my seat belt and turned in the soft leather seat to face him. The warm interior felt like butter against my hands and everything smelled like him, but intensified, concentrated in the small warm space.

  “Why do you walk to school every day?” Liam asked.

  “Uh, because I’m poor. I can’t afford a car and I can’t take Mom’s while she’s home during the day or she’d be stranded. I refuse to let her drive me. I’m a bit too old for that now.”

  “Not even in the winter?”

  I took a breath. “Justin drives me when the weather’s bad.”

  “Ah.” He tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel.

  “Why did you come back for me today?” I looked at my house, making sure Mom wasn’t spying. I doubted she’d recognize Liam’s car.

  “I didn’t want Kirk or anyone else bothering you. I told you I won’t let that happen again and I won’t if I can help it.” The edge in his voice cut me. He never told the whole story. He spoke in riddles, making me guess what he meant underneath the words. From where I sat, this sounded like a good-bye, but he’d made a trip to bring me home from school.

  “I can take care of myself. I’m not a child. I’ve dealt with these guys all my life.” I lowered my voice. I wasn’t a problem for him to solve.

  “Why didn’t you tell me everyone thinks my family’s insane?” His strangled voice made me nervous.

  “How? How do you say that to someone?”

  “Maybe they’re right.” He stared at his hands on the steering wheel. “Something’s wrong. That’s for certain. Apparently, news has traveled to Ohio. My entire bloodline is cursed. Cracked. Doomed.”

  “Liam.” I touched the back of his hand with my fingertips. He shook me away.

  “I think I was wrong. I think we shouldn’t be friends. Justin’s an honorable guy who clearly loves you. His family is upstanding and financially secure, both are things to hold in high regard when choosing your friends and acquaintances. I was wrong to interfere and I apologize.”

  “Hey,” I snapped. “I decide. Not you. You don’t make those decisions for me.” I glared at the side of his face. “Do you hear me?”

  “Right. Your choice.” He turned his face toward mine, barely moving in his seat, his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel unrelenting. He waved a hand at his windshield, toward his home in the distance. “I should get home.”

  There it was. He’d picked me up so he could say good-bye. I needed to talk with Justin for the same reason. It was better to say these things in person. Of course, I wasn’t dropping Justin from my life the way Liam had dropped me, but it was the same premise. One last moment of niceness before the aching, what-have-I-done and long nights of making myself it-was-for-the-best promises.

  Chapter 8

  The dark things he’d said about his family bothered me. He hadn’t seemed surprised by the content of the stories as much as the fact people had heard them. I’d had a feeling all the attitude he spewed was a cover to protect himself, but if he didn’t know we’d heard the rumors until today, why was he so unfriendly from day one?

  “How was school?” Mom sat in the chair across from me. Her wide brown eyes narrowed.

  “Fine. Good.” I corrected a minute too late and she caught it.

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. I have a big paper due in Ohio history. We got the rubric today and I’m worried.” Both parts of my statement were true enough, though not necessarily connected to one another in any way.

  “Who dropped you off?”

  “What?” She was watching. Jeez.

  “Uh huh. What’s he like?” She leaned in toward me. A small smile curved her lips.

  “Who?” Could she see him from the house? From the sidewalk, there were three steps to a walkway. The walkway ran to our porch steps. Four more steps brought visitors to the front door. It didn’t seem possible to see the driver inside a car from our house, not when I was on the side nearest her.

  “I didn’t realize it was such a tough question. How long are you going to think it over?” Her smile grew. “There’s only one family in town driving a brand new Mercedes, honey. It didn’t take a private detective.”

  “Oh. He’s nice.” Sort of. Not really. I picked at the roll beside my salad. Mom had stacked grilled chicken slices over greens, which meant she was too tired to deal with her more complicated recipes. I was thankful.

  “He picked you up from swim?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I know I’m getting old, but aren’t teenage girls usually keyed up after the new guy drives them home?” Mom turned her head slightly, trying to get a read on me.

  “Mom? Do you still have your books on Mythology?”

  She set her fork down. “Why?”

  “I saw Liam looking it up online. I thought you could help. Maybe he could borrow your books?” Growing up, she’d had an entire shelf in Dad’s study filled with books on mythology. I liked to sneak in and look at the watercolor pictures in the biggest tome. The book was heavy and hard to manage with my little hands, but it had smelled like an old attic, dry and peppery. I’d liked it. When she caught me tracing the images of sea nymphs on blank paper, she�
��d put all the books away. I’d looked every day after school for signs of them, but they were gone.

  “Honey, I got rid of those old books years ago.”

  “Right.” The books didn’t matter anyway. After our talk in his car, Liam and I probably wouldn’t be speaking again soon. Everything about him left me dangling, waiting for the rest of the story, but only one of us thought our story was over. He’d said goodbye, but I saw us stretching out in an unending ribbon of time. I pinched my eyes shut. That made no sense. Besides, he’d said the website was Oliver’s. It was time I stopped trying to find common ground with Liam. I covered my tummy with one palm, hoping to settle the sudden nausea. I needed more sleep.

  Mom studied me. “I wonder what got him interested in Norse mythology. There are plenty more relevant things to research. What’s wrong with technology in medicine, or drone building, or something current?”

  “I didn’t say he was looking up Norse mythology. Why didn’t you assume I meant Greek mythology?”

  Mom looked at me, unblinking. “You asked for my books. They were Norse.”

  My thoughts wobbled, unsteady in my mind. An unusual brand of tension zipped between us. “Not all of them.”

  Her expression seemed to challenge me. To what?

  The doorbell rang and I nearly fell off my chair.

  Mom looked past me to the door. “Expecting company?”

  “Justin.” Shoot. My tummy clenched for a new reason.

  Mom followed me to the door. “Hello, Justin. Come in. We have salad.”

  “Salad?” Justin cocked an eyebrow. “I’m a meat and potatoes guy, Mrs. Ingram. This doesn’t happen on accident.” He curled a forearm at his side.

  “Certainly not.” She laughed. “You have your mother’s sense of humor and your dad’s face. I’d venture to say genes have more to do with those arms than meat and potatoes. Can I get you a soda?”

  “Thanks.” Justin followed Mom to the kitchen, and I trailed behind.