The Cyrun

by Janilise Lloyd

  “Huh?” I said, distracted. I’d been thinking about the mysterious boy who always seemed to be there when I was using my abilities, wondering what his strange smile meant today. “Oh, yeah, I’m a bit sore. I was just thinking about all the homework I have to finish up before tomorrow. Unless you write me a doctor’s note to get out of school, of course.” I batted my eyelashes playfully.

  “Ha, yeah right. You’re going to school tomorrow, Ava.”

  “Fine,” I grumbled, slumping down in my seat as I shoved another forkful in my mouth.

  “There’s—” Dad paused, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.” He kept his eyes glued to his plate as he spoke.

  “Umm, okay? Did someone die?” I asked, knowing the answer would be no. We didn’t have any family and very few friends. This behavior was odd for my dad, though, and it had me worried.

  “No, of course not. It’s just, well, I was going to ask you what you would think about me leaving for a while again.” His eyes flashed up to mine for a moment before dropping to his plate. “My team is doing a research project up in Alaska for a couple weeks, and I’d love to go along and head the study. I mean, I know Shaffer would do a great job—he always does—but I’m really excited about this one, hon. We’re going to be taking a few glacier and rock samples to study for carbon dioxide levels, and we’re hoping to make a connection between them and the declining reproduction rate of the—”

  “Dad,” I interrupted, “That’s enough.” I was relieved. Dad left somewhat often on these types of studies and my precognition had told me one of his excursions was coming soon. Being a professor kept him busy, and field work was his favorite part of the job.

  “Right, sorry,” Dad said sheepishly. He had a tendency to get carried away in his technical jargon that I knew nothing about.

  “That sounds great, Dad. When would you leave? And when would you be back?”

  “Well, the team is leaving tomorrow, actually, but I don’t have to go that soon, of course. I can head out in a couple days and catch up with them later, especially where you’ve just been hurt. I don’t want to leave when you need me...” Dad’s voice drifted off. He looked up at me through his thick lashes, his brown eyes sparkling with anticipation.

  I laughed. “Okay, okay. Tomorrow is fine.”

  “Really? You mean it? Oh, Ava, honey, you’re the best daughter any man could ask for. Now I won’t be gone too long—three weeks at the most—and you can reach me anytime you want. Well, not any time, I guess, because we’ll be out of cell range most days, but you can leave a message for me at the hotel, and I’ll call you back as soon as I’m home for the night. And if anything comes up, you just say the word and I’ll be back on the next flight out of there, okay?”

  “I know the drill, Dad. I’ll be fine.” I rolled my eyes.

  “I know, sugar, but I’ll make sure Ms. Jackson checks in with you at least every other day, and I’ll leave my credit card behind so you can buy any food you need. You could even take Lana and Jessica or any of the other girls out for girls’ night.”

  This part of the speech was especially typical. Dad always made himself sick with guilt about leaving me, so he’d try to make it up to me with money. Normally, I’d end up spending less than $50 while he was gone—just what I needed for enough cold cereal, granola bars, and store-bought cookies to make it by until he was home.

  “Dad, you’re going to give yourself a stroke. Deep breaths, remember? I’ll be fine. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

  “I know, which is the only reason Ms. Jackson isn’t going to be staying here, but I’ll always worry about you, Ava. You’re still my little girl.” He winked at me, his tan face crinkling.

  “Please don’t worry, Dad. It’s going to be great,” I assured him.

  “Thanks again, honey.” Dad stood to clear our plates from the table. “I guess I better get busy if I’m catching a flight out of here tomorrow. And you better get going on all that homework you have,” he added slyly, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. Apparently his guilt wasn’t enough to get me out of school tomorrow.

  With a sigh, I stood up from the table and went straight to my room to get busy.

  Chapter 5

  Stalker

  My little accident yesterday must have taken its toll. Normally, I was a light sleeper, but I didn’t even stir until my alarm clock woke me up too late the next morning. I had just a half hour until the first bell rang, and Ms. George was not a forgiving woman.

  In my rush to get ready, I found a note on the fridge door from Dad that read:

  Hope you slept well, sweet pea. I thought about waking you to say goodbye, but frankly, you looked like the walking dead last night. I figured you could use the sleep. And don’t think you’re too clever—yes, I know you’re keeping something from me, and you know it’s only a matter of time before I find out.

  I’ll call as often as I can. Be good and have fun while I’m away!

  LOL,

  Dad

  Dad once saw this internet meme that showed a mom texting her daughter, “Just wanted you to know Grandma died last night. LOL!” Apparently the mom had thought LOL meant lots of love. So now Dad uses it that way whenever he has a chance. He thinks he’s hilarious.

  I rolled my eyes and put the note back on the fridge. I grabbed a swig of milk straight from the carton to chase down the granola bar I’d just shoved down my throat.

  I hopped in my old, blue, beater Nissan Maxima, throwing my backpack in the passenger seat, then sped off for the next seven hours of purgatory—I mean high school.

  Truthfully, I didn’t mind school all that much. In fact, I rather enjoyed learning. My only complaint was the social aspect. It was complicated trying to hide so much about myself all the time, and today was bound to be particularly awkward. The news of my heroics was sure to have traveled fast. Nothing remains a secret for long in high school.

  In an attempt to avoid as many questions as possible, I stayed in my car in the parking lot once I got to school. My plan was to wait it out until the bell rang. Running late as I was, I didn’t have to wait long.

  As I entered my English class, I was unsurprised to find Lana—already seated in her desk—bouncing with anticipation, her soft golden waves of hair rippling with the movement. I had a feeling yesterday that something exciting was going to happen to her soon. Before I’d even taken my seat, she was bursting with the news.

  “You will never guess who just asked me to the fall formal,” she said, her smile so large that it was borderline creepy. She knocked her dolphin folder off her desk as she flailed her arms in excitement.

  “Whoever it was, I hope you weren’t this enthusiastic in front of him,” I joked as I bent to pick up her folder.

  “Of course not. I played it cool. But that’s beside the point. Go on, guess,” she persisted, her blue eyes sparkling.

  Lana liked guessing games like this. I did not. “I don’t know, Lana. Just tell me.”

  “Fine, but you’re no fun. Jeremy Hastings, that’s who!” she gushed.

  Lana had had a crush on Jeremy for as long as I could remember, though that wasn’t saying much since she usually had a crush on about ten different boys at the same time. Jeremy was simply the most consistent name on her ever-changing list.

  “That’s amazing, Lana. You’re going to have so much fun.” Faking enthusiasm didn’t make me a bad person, right? I was just being a good friend.

  “I know,” she squeaked. “So when do you want to go dress shopping?”

  I knew that question wouldn’t be far behind. Truth was, I never wanted to go dress shopping; I found it a complete bore. But I’d been on more than a few of these trips with Lana and they were unavoidable, which was crazy because she never listened to my opinion anyway.

  Fortunately, Ms. George saved me from having to answer, as she started class at that moment. Also fortunate (for me, at least) was the fact that Lana didn’
t do so well on her last essay and had to stay after class to talk with Ms. George about her grade. That would delay the dress discussion until lunch, at least.

  The rest of the school day was rather uneventful. I did get several comments about the almost-accident, but nobody seemed overly suspicious of how I’d done it. Maybe Dad was right—people would rather believe what made sense over what they’d actually seen. I relaxed more and more as the day went on without being asked any directly suspicious questions.

  I did end up having to agree to go shopping with Lana tomorrow, but I’d say my chances of surviving the trip were pretty high. Besides, I totally owed her for covering for me yesterday. She had every reason in the world to wonder what was wrong with me, but, like a true friend, she always let it slide.

  All in all, I was in good spirits by the time track practice rolled around after school. When Coach Ramos called for the 400 meter dash, I lined up on the blocks with the other girls. I wasn’t feeling very motivated to perform my best today. Honestly, showing up to practice was only necessary to maintain good status on the team, not because I would actually improve any. I basically only did track for Lana’s benefit; she really wanted me on the team, so I joined last year. It was more of a pain than anything because I had to let other girls beat me from time to time. That didn’t sit well with my competitive side.

  My good mood came to an abrupt end as I crouched in my runner’s stance, ready to take off. A nasally voice tickled my ear. “Good luck, Tanner,” Lance Jacobs sneered my last name. “You need all the practice you can get.”

  I turned around to say something snarky back at the jerk, but was stopped short. The boy—the one from the bank and the road yesterday—was sitting up at the top of the stadium leaning against the back gate, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked directly at me and smiled.

  Lance began to say something else stupid, but I cut him off. “Lance, I really don’t care what you have to say. Just shut up already.” I pushed past him as I jogged toward the boy in the stadium seating. This was too much of a coincidence. I needed to know who he was and why he was following me.

  The mysterious boy—realizing I was coming for him—sat up with a start and hurriedly made his way down the opposite set of stairs toward the gate. I cut across a section of bleachers, following. Once I was out of sight, I could run and catch up to him with ease. No point in trying to hide my powers from him. He obviously knew something was different about me.

  Once I made it through the gate, I glanced around, checking for bystanders. I couldn’t see anyone, so I took a chance and broke into a run. I caught the boy by his left arm in seconds.

  “Who are you and why are you here?” I demanded as I tugged on his arm, forcing him around to face me.

  I was slightly taken back by his face—he was handsome, strikingly so. His hair was short and dark brown. His hazel eyes betrayed fear underneath his heavy-set eyebrows. I could feel his strong biceps underneath my palm where my fingernails dug into his green jacket. He was about five inches taller than me—probably 6 feet even, yet he cowered away from my intense stare.

  “Look, I’m not going to hurt you. All I want is an answer. Did you follow me here? I know you saved me at the bank last week. And you were on the roadside when the truck almost hit that boy. It can’t be a coincidence you just happened to show up at my track practice today as well,” I accused.

  The boy relaxed as I talked, gaining back some confidence. “No, it isn’t a coincidence I’m here,” he agreed. His voice was smooth and deep. “I was trying to find you.”

  “Is that why you were there yesterday, too?”

  “Yes. That was no coincidence either.”

  “Why would you want to find me? How did you find me?” I demanded, trying to sound confident, though I was anything but. This stranger had witnessed two blatant displays of my unusual abilities. I had no clue how to talk myself out of this mess. Plus, I was confused. He was creepy, no doubt, but he didn’t seem like the typical stalker type. He’d also saved my life under impossible circumstances, so I kind of owed him big time.

  “You know exactly why I wanted to find you.” He looked at me with his eyebrows raised.

  What did that mean? I panicked.

  “As for how I found you, well, I don’t think I’d like to reveal that just now,” he said, a smirk twisting his features, erasing the last trace of fear that was once there and replacing it with the confidence I sorely lacked.

  “Okay then, how about a name? Can you reveal that?” I chided.

  “My name’s Trenton, but I go by Trent. And yours?” He extended his hand out in front of him.

  “I’m Avalon, but I go by Ava,” I said, mimicking his casual tone. I ignored his extended hand. I wasn’t going to shake hands with a creep.

  “Well, Ava,” Trent said, dropping his hand back to his side. “I believe we both have a few more questions for each other, but I hardly think this is the right place for them. What do you say we go grab an early dinner together and we can discuss things a little more?”

  I chewed on the inside of my lip, sure that Dad would flip if he knew I even considered going to eat with a total stranger who knew way too much about me. Somewhere in my head, the stranger danger light was blazing, but truthfully, I was intrigued. So far, Trent had not had the response I had come to expect from people who saw what I could do. The only fear he had betrayed seemed to be a result of being caught stalking, not in response to any manifestations of my abnormal powers. And I had to know how he’d saved me at the bank.

  “What sort of place did you have in mind?” I asked tentatively.

  “I’m not from around here, actually, so I was hoping you would have a suggestion?” A half smile exposed his perfectly white, straight teeth. My heart gave an involuntary stutter in response. He was definitely better looking than any of the guys at Littleton High.

  “Well, there’s a little Italian place called Bertolli’s not far from here. It’s pretty good.” I swallowed loudly. I hoped he didn’t notice.

  “Sounds great. Did you want a minute to change? I’ll wait here,” he offered.

  I looked down at my spandex shorts, tank top, and tennis shoes, feeling embarrassed. So far, this guy had seen me stuck in a trash can covered in seafood, in a shredded t-shirt with blood dripping down my back, and now like this. Plus he’d witnessed two instances of magic. Could I have made myself any more vulnerable?

  “Umm, right, I’ll go hit the showers. You swear you won’t leave?”

  He crossed his heart, a playful smile on his lips. “I swear.”

  “Be back in five,” I said, not meeting his eyes as I rushed to the locker room at a normal, human-paced jog.

  Trying hard not to overthink what I was about to do, I quickly rinsed off my body in the shower, threw on the jeans, maroon sweater, and rose necklace I’d been wearing earlier, then yanked a brush through my tangled hair. Deciding that was a lost cause, I pulled it back into a high ponytail and rushed outside, hoping Trent hadn’t disappeared without any explanations.

  Thankfully, he hadn’t ditched me. His tall frame leaned against the fence of the baseball diamond, the picture of ease. Shouldn’t he look at least slightly more uncomfortable? He was the one who had admitted to following me, after all.

  “Hey,” I said awkwardly as I approached him. Was that an appropriate greeting for a guy I simultaneously feared, disliked, and was slightly attracted to? I was overthinking things.

  “That was fast,” he commented lightly. “I thought ladies were supposed to take hours to get ready.”

  “Well, we usually do when we’re trying to impress somebody. I’m not too concerned with that right now.”

  “Ouch,” Trent laughed, shaking his head.

  “You are an admitted stalker,” I reminded him.

  “Fair enough. Where to, boss?” he asked, uncrossing his arms and rubbing his palms together in anticipation.

  Instead of answering, I began walking out to the parking lot. Trent foll
owed in silence.

  As I got to my car door, I asked, “Where’s your car? I could drive you over there.”

  “I actually don’t have one,” Trent said, looking down at his feet.

  “Then how did you get here?”

  “It’s not important. Can I just ride with you?”

  “I guess,” I said, not quite sure what to make of that. If he wasn’t from around here, how did he get all the way out to my high school without a car? This guy was fishy. What was I doing going somewhere alone with him? It was a good thing Dad was out of town. I could avoid having that conversation for at least three weeks.

  Trying to be discreet, I unhooked the clip-on pepper spray I had on my keychain as I unlocked the door. I kept it in my left hand as I got in the car. I reached over and unlocked Trent’s door.

  Trent climbed in beside me. “Ava, I know I’m a stranger, and you have good reason to be a little freaked out, but I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, smiling at my closed left fist. “You can put the pepper spray away.”

  Abandoning all pretenses, I replied, “I think I’ll keep it handy, just to be safe.”

  He chuckled. “Suit yourself.”

  Chapter 6

  The Traveler

  We arrived at Bertolli’s in under five minutes. I jumped out of the car before Trent could get any ideas about opening my door for me. I also hurried ahead of him, reaching the restaurant door before he could. I walked in without waiting, the door catching him off guard. I heard a small grunt as he caught it in the gut.

  “Table for two?” the thin, blonde hostess with fake eyelashes smiled at us. I folded my arms and looked away.

  “Yes, please, for the two of us,” Trent said, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me close in jest. I shrugged away from him, looking at him with disdain as I followed Malibu Barbie. He laughed and followed after me.

  “Is there something wrong with you?” I insisted as soon as the hostess handed us our menus and left. “Mentally, I mean?”