“So, tell me, how are you feeling?” The breath gets sucked out of me, as I whirl back to the now. This is killing me.
“I’m good. I’m ready to get back into things.” I walk over to where I had placed my laptop and grab it. The bell rings and we both walk to our first class, math.
“Hey, I need to go to the mall today, I lost my phone charger. Wanna come? I can take you home after.”
The hairs on my arms stand to attention while tiny goosebumps rise on my skin. “Yeah, sure. I just gotta let Mom know.” Crap. The vision I had may not be real. Maybe I’ll sit in the car while she ducks in to get the charger.
Yes, that’s exactly what I’ll do, because I don’t want the vision to come true.
It feels like déjà vu, a sensation of being somewhere before. But in my case. I haven’t just got a feeling. I’ve got clear visions.
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I text to let Mom know Dallas and I are going to the mall and what we’re doing.
By the time we reach math, Mom’s already responded. ‘Be safe and let me know when you arrive home. Dad’s working late and will be home by 5pm. I’ve got a meeting scheduled at 3pm so I’ll be later. Order takeout for dinner.’
Looks like she’s working long hours again. Okay. I shoot back to her.
The morning goes by quite quickly and as I move through the hallways, I try to avoid touching anyone. But, of course, I can’t help it when people aren’t watching where they’re going.
Damon Scott, one of our school’s baseball stars is talking to a few other guys and walks straight into me.
“Watch it, loser,” he angrily snaps at me, even though it was his fault.
I’m standing in the hospital; the doctor is talking to a man and a woman I recognize as Damon’s parents. “He’s torn his meniscus.”
“How did he do it?” his mom asks.
“You said he was at baseball practice?”
“Yes,” his parents answer in unison.
“And he slid into base right before he said he felt a pop. I’m afraid he’s out for the rest of the season. We have to see how bad it is, because he may need surgery.”
“Surgery? Will he ever . . .”
I’m back in the corridor, completely stationary as Damon keeps walking past me. “He’s going into surgery,” I say to myself. I find I speak the words in a low tone, but most importantly, I believe them.
Bringing my hand up to my forehead, I rub at it and let out a deep sigh.
Maybe, just maybe, I’m not losing my mind.
“I might stay in the car while you go and get your charger,” I say to Dallas as we leave the student parking lot.
“I haven’t seen you in like forever, so no, you’re coming in and I’m treating you to some frozen yogurt.”
I turn to look at her. My eyebrows shoot up and I give her a ‘what the hell’ stare. “Frozen yogurt? Seriously? What are we, twelve?” She laughs at me and shakes her head. “And you saw me all day today. Besides, I don’t want frozen yogurt. I’ll stay in the car and you can get in and get out.”
It’s her turn to give me the ‘what the hell’ look. “I don’t think so.” She lets go of the steering wheel and points her long skinny finger at me. I tease her by leaning over and snapping my teeth toward her extended digit. “Hey, no biting the driver.”
We pull up to a set of traffic lights, and a shiny black car rolls to a stop beside us. The windows are so dark I can’t see inside, and the engine is incredibly quiet. It’s a new car, something you expect to see in a car chase in a blockbuster movie. I stare at the blackened windows and try to imagine who’s navigating such a beautiful piece of machinery. “Hey, try to take off a bit faster than this car, I wanna see who’s driving,” I say to Dallas, hoping to see in through the windshield.
“Oh, a good ol’ fashioned drag race.” She revs the engine and grips the wheel.
“Look at that car. There’s no way you’ll even inch in front of it now. They won’t let you. You’re revving your car like you’re on a racetrack.”
“I can so take them.” She revs again.
“Don’t bother now.” She’s delusional if she thinks her little purple car, with its purple interior, is going to beat the beautiful, sleek, shiny black car next to me.
I have no idea about cars. They simply don’t interest me. But even I know the vehicle beside us would totally destroy Dallas’s. Annihilate it.
The light turns to green, and the impeccable car smoothly vanishes in front of us—while we’re still at the light. “That was anti-climactic.” Dallas laughs and continues straight ahead toward the mall.
She chats to me about what I missed at school, what the rumors are about why I wasn’t at school and who’s done what with who. I tune out thinking about the black car.
“That car was a bit too swank to be around here,” I say more to myself than to Dallas.
She stops talking and looks over to me for a second. “What car?”
“The one from the light. Did you think it fit in here?”
“Look around, Lexi, we live in a pretty nice area.”
She has a point. We do. Not overly affluent, but definitely better than most areas. But still, something was peculiar about it. It just didn’t fit in. It was too nice, too shiny, and just—wrong.
“Yeah, I know,” I finally concede. She’s right. Maybe this whole hallucination thing is playing havoc with my head. That’s gotta be it. It’s messing with me.
“Hey, what are we doing for your birthday?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. I really don’t want to do anything. Can’t we just hang out at home, and do nothing?” I sound like I’m whining, but with everything going on with my unstable head, the last thing I want to be doing is having a party or going out. I need normal to come back to me.
Dallas finds a spot close to the mall and pulls into it. “Come on, we’re going shopping.”
“You sound so cheesy. I’ll wait here, you go ahead.” I tilt the passenger seat back, place my feet on the dash and close my eyes, pretending I need to sleep.
“Get your butt out.” She tugs on my hand, and I’m back to the vision I had earlier. We’re walking in the mall, the cute guy, the ‘he’s cute.’ All of it repeats as clearly and perfectly as it did the first time. “Come on, let’s go.” She slams the car door, and it jolts me back to the present.
Dallas jogs around to my side, opens the door and goes to grab for my hand. But I quickly snatch it away. “I got it,” I grumble to her, but on the inside, I’m freaking out. Because I know there’ll be a lot of people, which means people are going to brush past me. Which means a living hell of visions.
“Then hurry up.” She takes a step back, watching me as I get out.
“You watching me is freaky. I’m not made of glass,” I snap.
She takes another step back. “Who made you so bitchy?”
She’s right, I’m taking out my frustrations about my screwed-up mind on her. “Sorry,” I mumble.
She makes a beeline straight for Target, while my eyes dart like crazy around me, ready to side-step people to avoid making contact with anyone.
Dallas takes a sharp breath in, and I look over to her to notice the flushed color on her cheeks. “He’s cute.”
The hair on the back of my neck rises, and a lump of anticipation gathers at the base of my throat.
Oh shit. This is real.
“He’s checking you out.”
I look in the direction her eyes are firmly staring, and see him. The guy with the expensive suit and gorgeous square jawline. It’s also right now that I say, ‘he’s pretty cute.’ “He’s pretty cute,” I involuntarily say when I notice how darkly mysterious his eyes are.
He slows his pace, his eyes glued to me.
Double shit—this is really real.
“You’ll thank me one day.”
“Huh?” Just as I turn to question her, she walks close to me, and trips me in front of the guy.
His hands dart out to c
atch me.
I’m standing on an isolated dock. There’s no moon in the sky, and the darkness is eerie. I hear the sound of a ship cruising through the water. I look around and notice I’m standing near the bridge. The ship is a cargo ship, but not one of those huge ones. More like a transporter.
Looking to my left, I see nothing except a few storage containers stacked on top of each other. Looking to my right, the man with the piercing eyes is walking toward me. He’s wearing the same expensive suit. He’s on his phone, talking to someone. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I can see he’s getting closer to me.
He stops about five feet away. “I’m here,” he angrily spits into the phone. “I’m giving you two minutes.” By the tone of his voice I know it’s a deadly threat.
I hear a crack from my left. Turning I see three men come out of the shadows. Their menacing stance tells me this isn’t going to be good. The huge guns they’re holding confirm how bad this actually is. More men surround the suited guy; this is his death. An execution, he’s being erased.
“Run,” I yell at the man with the darkened eyes. But he can’t hear me. “Ru-”
“Are you okay?” The breath gets knocked out of me as he places me on my feet. I stare into his eyes, shocked at what I saw. He’s going to die. There’d be no way he’d escape so much fire power. My heart is frantically beating against my chest, my nerves jumping from what I saw. “Are you okay?” he asks again. Automatically I step back, wanting to avoid him. “I’m sorry, did I do something to you?”
I’m lost for words. Completely unable to speak. What I saw scares me. My hands tremble and my blood turns icy cold. Silently, I turn and sprint away.
Dallas is steps behind me. “Hey, what happened? You turned white, like you saw a ghost.” I can hear her footsteps behind me as she tries to catch me.
Her words rock me to my very core.
Stopping in the middle of the mall, I turn to look at her and I see the guy walking away further in the distance. I can’t let another person die. I had the power to help Hayley, and she died because I wasn’t brave enough to speak up and save her.
I close my eyes for a few seconds, and fight with my brain. Willing myself, I do what I vowed to never do. I need to go and tell him.
“Wait here a second.” I run to catch him before he disappears. As I close in on him, I have no idea what I’m going to say, or even how I’m going to say it. Telling him I saw a vision is beyond mad. If a perfect stranger told me they saw an event which hasn’t happened yet, I’d smile sweetly and walk away as fast as I could. But, I have to try.
I see him head to the door and I grab his shoulder. He turns, his eyes landing on me. “Hey,” he gruffly says before softening to me.
“I’m sorry about that.” I point in the direction of where I fell into his arms.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and open them to find him staring at me. “I know what I’m about to say is going to sound crazy.”
His lips pull up into a smirk. “I’ve heard a lot of crazy in my life, so it better be good.” He teasingly winks at me.
Instantly, the worry leaves me, and by him being so approachable, I’m nearly at ease around him. My shoulders drop and I take another more relaxed breath. “I know you don’t know me, and this is going to sound really strange . . .”
“Let’s fix that, I’m Jude.” He holds his hand out to me. Looking down at it, I know what’s going to happen, and I don’t want to see him get shot.
“I’m Lexi,” I reply without taking his hand.
“Now we know each other, Lexi. What did you want to tell me?” He drops his.
“Tonight, you’re going to the docks because you’re meeting someone.”
His back straightens and his shoulders come up high. He holds his hand up to someone, and I look around to see a tall guy, dressed in a smart suit, with short blond hair step forward. I didn’t notice him before, where was he lurking? “How do you know this? Who sent you?”
“No one,” I answer defensively. “I warned you this was going to sound crazy. But please, don’t go tonight. It’s an ambush. There will be men there with guns.”
He holds his hand up again. I back away from him, suddenly terrified by him and the huge guy who’s now only feet away. “Who told you and what do you know about it?” He steps closer and this simple act petrifies me.
“Nobody said anything, I promise you,” fear fuels my voice. “Just, please don’t go.” I step away further. He holds his hand up to the muscle guy and shakes his head at him. “Please.” I turn and I run. I run as fast as my feet will take me, and I avoid everyone in my path.
When I get to Dallas, I turn to look over my shoulder toward where I left the guy, but he’s not there. He must have left. He probably thinks I’m a girl who’s lost her mind.
“What happened to you? Did you get his number?” Dallas asks and waggles her eyebrows at me.
“No, it didn’t work out.” Turning, I make my way toward the store we were heading to. “Come on.”
“What do you mean ‘it didn’t work out’? You haven’t even gone on a date with him.”
“And I’m not going to. It’s just not right, you know?”
“Lexi, something’s happened to you.” My spine stiffens in anticipation of what she’s going to say. “You’re way more jittery around people. What’s going on? Has something happened?”
What can I say to her? This is a secret best kept to myself. “Nothing. I think I’m just tired.” I place my hand to my stomach where my small scar is to emphasize my statement.
“Do you want to sit?”
“Nah, let’s get your charger and go home.”
“Okay,” Dallas replies as we head into Target.
As we’re passing one of the aisles, I get an idea that could possibly help me. “I want to have a look at something,” I say as I head toward the women’s clothing section. Dallas follows me, and I stop in front of a rack where they have gloves neatly stacked. “I wonder,” I mumble to myself. Sliding a glove on, I turn to look at Dallas who’s busy scrolling through her phone.
“Oh, my God!” she nearly shouts, and suddenly becomes much more invested in her phone.
“What?” I step forward hoping to get a glimpse of what’s garnered her attention.
“Damon Scott’s been stretchered off the field. Apparently, he hurt himself sliding into base in practice.”
“And he’s torn his meniscus.”
“What? All it says on his page is that he’s in the hospital. How do you know, Lexi?” Her eyes question me as she looks up from her phone.
Crap, did I say the words aloud? “What?”
“You said he’d torn his meniscus.”
“What? Did I? I was just thinking I hope it’s not as serious as a torn meniscus because that would mean he’d be out for the rest of the season.”
She draws her brows together and slightly tilts her head to the side. Panic rises through me as I wait for the onslaught on questions. “Are you okay?”
Whoa, what a question. I really wasn’t expecting it. I honestly thought she was going to hammer me but instead, she genuinely seems concerned. I know Dallas is my best friend, and she’ll always have my back, but this secret I have can never get out. It’s not something I think anyone can handle. “I’m perfect.” I give her a smile, and beg her with my eyes to please drop it. “I promise.” I cross my heart.
“As long as you’re okay.”
“I am.” The intensity in her eyes softens and her gaze flicks back down to her phone. A small shallow breath leaves my chest as I prepare to touch her hand. I’m wearing gloves, and I’m hoping I don’t get a vision. I’m almost certain this will work, but a slow trepidation quivers inside me.
Reaching out, I hesitantly touch her hand. “What’s up?” she asks, looking away from her phone for a brief few seconds.
Relief floods every part of me. “What do you think of these?” I ask, covering up th
e real reason I touched her hand.
“They’re gloves.” Her eyebrows come together and she look at me sharply. “They’re gloves,” she says again, completely bored.
“Yeah, I think I’ll buy them.”
“Well, buy them. Can I go get a charger now?”
She doesn’t realize how thankful I am that this has worked. So now, all I need to do is keep my hands and arms covered and that way I won’t have any more visions.
The only problem is, school is almost finished, and this means, summer is really close.
Which means, no long sleeve sweaters or gloves.
Great.
“Oh, my God, did you hear?” Dallas asks when I meet her at school the next day.
“Hear what?”
“Damon tore his meniscus sliding into base. Apparently, it was a freak kinda accident. He’s not able to finish the season out. He has to have an operation on his knee.”
“Yeah, I was with you yesterday when you read it on his wall.” I lean against one of the lockers beside hers.
“Yeah, but he put on Facebook this morning it’s a definite tear. He’s angry he’s going to miss out on the rest of the season.”
I’d be angry too. “There’s always next year.” I lift my shoulders in resignation. There’s not much they can do, I suppose.
“Man, how crappy would that be? To get nearly to the end of the season, and he goes out on an injury.” I lift my shoulders again and clutch my books to my chest. “You must really like those gloves you bought yesterday.” She pointedly looks down to my covered hands. “Are you getting sick?” She eyes what I’m wearing today. A thin long sleeved sweater, jeans, and gloves.
“Nah, I’m okay. Just thought the weather looked cooler when I was getting ready for school.” It’s not true. I know today is inching toward mid-eighties, but if I can get through the last few weeks of school without touching anyone, or too many people, then that means I’ll have the entire summer where I can hide away at home and not get any visions.
The Gift: The Butterfly Effect, Book 1. Page 4