Inevitable

by Tamara Hart Heiner

  I looked down at my short black skirt, white shirt, and black blazer, and thought how out of place the lime-green scarf would look.

  “You need some color.” Dana nodded. “Put it on.”

  “Fine.” I wrapped it around my neck and knotted it.

  My phone began to vibrate inside my bag. I got an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach when I saw the caller: Beth. My little sister.

  With a four-year difference between the two of us, Beth and I had always had a comfortable relationship. But ever since she developed the lemon smell two months ago, I couldn’t shake the fear I felt whenever I was around her. I had two choices: See the horrible way in which she’d die and live with the guilt of knowing I couldn’t change it, or avoid her as much as possible.

  I chose to avoid her. Not an easy task when you share a bathroom with someone.

  The phone was on its last ring. I flipped it open. “Hello?”

  “Sheesh, Jayne, I thought you weren’t going to answer.”

  I wasn’t. Out loud, I said, “Well, I did. What’s up?”

  “I just got done with my study group and need a ride home. Mom told me to call you. I’m at school. I’ll wait at the curve by the flagpole.”

  “Wait!” I protested, but Beth had already hung up. I sighed.

  “What’s wrong?” Dana stood next to the bed, hands on her hips.

  I cocked an eyebrow. “I’m on taxi duty.”

  “Figures. Want me to come?”

  If Dana came along, the two of them could chat and I could just drive. “Actually, that sounds like a great idea. You can keep her entertained.” I made no move to leave, however. Beth could wait a little longer.

  As if reading my mind, Dana said, “Don’t leave her by herself. You heard about that murder in Lanoka Harbor, right?”

  “Yeah, creepy.” Lacey Township was made up of several smaller communities, all considered quiet and boringly safe. A homicide made the headlines.

  And I didn’t know how Beth was going to die. Better not to take chances. “All right, let’s go.”

  We took my car, heading out of town toward the middle school. I chewed on the sides of my finger, having run out of nail.

  “Look.” Dana pointed out the window. “JT’s Bagel Hut is hiring. Maybe you could get a job there.” She chuckled as if this were immensely funny.

  I frowned. “That’s an idea.”

  Dana widened her blue eyes and shot me a look. “Come on. You want to be a journalist.”

  “I need a job, Dana. Daddy’s not paying for this gas.”

  “You had a job. A good one. You quit—again.”

  “Working at Camela’s Fashion wasn’t exactly furthering my career,” I protested. “I just got lots of good discounts.”

  “Granted.” Dana nodded her head. “So you quit that job because you wanted to start an internship as a journalist.”

  Something like that. “Right.”

  “And you walked out of today’s interview because...?”

  I scowled at her. “It wasn’t right for me. I wasn’t a good fit.”

  “And JT’s Bagel Hut is what you’re looking for?”

  I didn’t answer. I had no response.

  “You’re keeping something from me, Jayne. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  I squirmed in my seat and focused on the road. The commercial district disappeared behind us. Ripe corn fields flanked us on either side, and I stared at the waving golden tassels.

  There were so many times I’d almost told Dana my secret. But I didn't want her to think I was crazy. Like the therapist had. Crazy Jayne.

  I pulled up at the middle school. Beth flounced over to the car, grinning at us. I put on my sunglasses and stared out the windshield. The essence of lemons wafted in the air around her. My heart rate increased out of habit, and I swallowed hard.

  “Hi!” Beth called. “Are you guys going somewhere?” She paused outside the driver’s side.

  Why hadn’t I rolled up my window? I could feel her eyes on me, waiting, watching to see if I would respond. I kept my gaze trained straight ahead. “Yeah, we’re going out tonight. Hop on in, I’ll take you home.”

  Beth slowly moved to the back door. I sneaked a peek in the rearview mirror and saw her eyes still on me, her lips drawn together. I rearranged the mirrors so we wouldn’t accidentally make eye contact.

  I put my foot on the gas and tried to ignore the guilty feeling in my chest. I would not allow myself to See her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “This is your junior year of high school?” The manager of JT's Bagel Hut sat across from me at a little table, twiddling with the pen wedged between his ear and visor. The crooked nametag on his shirt spelled out, “Tom.” His eyes scanned the one-page application I had filled out.

  “Yes.” My hands ran over my thighs, straightening any wrinkles in my pink skirt. I felt overdressed. Why hadn’t I just worn jeans and a t-shirt? Because I couldn’t get over the idea that an interview was professional, that’s why.

  “Hmm.” He put down the application and met my gaze.

  I flinched before relaxing. The only thing I smelled on him was garlic and butter.

  “Well,” he said, “you seem very qualified with customer service. You’ve never worked with food before?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Not professionally. But I cook a lot.” Spaghettios, anyway. I flashed what I hoped was a dazzling smile.

  “Not a problem, we’ll train you. We’ll start you as an associate making minimum wage, but there’s definitely room for advancement. Sound okay?”

  “Yes.” I nodded my head, trying not to appear too eager. “Of course.”

  He eyed me some more. “Great, then. Can you start tomorrow at four?”

  “Hold on.” I reached into my purse and pulled out a small pocket calendar. Tomorrow was Tuesday, and there were no games to cover. Spanish club met on Wednesday. “Sure. I’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “You’re a size small, right? We’ll have a uniform ready when you come in.”

  Uniform? I had forgotten that tidbit. I worked hard to keep the smile on my face as I stood and shook his hand. My eyes surveyed his purple-and-turquoise-striped polo. “Medium. Thanks. See you tomorrow, then.”

  I turned around. My heels clunked across the gray linoleum as I walked toward the exit. I so didn’t belong here.

  My phone started vibrating before I even got to the car. I snatched it up and sighed. Dana wasn’t going to be happy about this. “Hey, Danes, I can’t really talk right now.”

  “Where are you?” she demanded. “I’ve got news and I’ve been trying to call you for the past hour! Why weren’t you answering?”

  “Um.” I slid behind the wheel and fished around my CDs. Sarah Brightman caught my eye. A little operatic Soprano to soothe my nerves. Perfect. “I was busy. What’s the news?”

  “Stephen and Jessica broke up.”

  My thoughts flashed first to Jessica, the skinny cheerleader with long brown hair. My stomach always clenched at the thought of her. Stephen and I had been so happy until she set her sights on him. When had it happened, anyway? The night of the pool party, when Stephen threw me into the water and dived in after me? Or was it already going on before then?

  My thoughts flashed next to the vision I’d seen, of Stephen with a blond at his house, getting ready for prom. I sucked in a breath. He was already on track with his destiny. He had to break up with Jessica so he could go out with the other girl.

  “Oh, really?” I tried my best to sound appropriately shocked, while swerving out of the way of a car that almost ran me over. The driver honked, and I mouthed a “sorry.” “How do you know?”

  “Babe, it’s all over school. She was—get this—making out with Blackard in the boy’s locker room. Blackard! In the boy’s locker room!”

  I blanched. “She dumped Stephen for Blackard?” Corbin Blackard was captain of the football team, and fit the stereotype perfectly: big, handsome, popular, arr
ogant, rude, and ignorant. Not to mention, he changed girls every weekend. My face flushed with indignation. “That cow!”

  “You need to come over here.” Dana was practically purring now. “Get over here, put something nice on, and we’ll head over to Bay Bookstore.”

  Stephen worked at Bay. I thought of all the lovely evenings where I had settled down in a chair, book in hand, and read contentedly while Stephen worked. Every once in awhile he would pass my chair and flash me a secret smile, like he and I were the only ones who knew I was there for him. My chest warmed at the memory.

  And then the blond girl popped into my mind, and I sighed. “No good, Dana. It’s over between us.”

  “What?” she screeched. “It only ended because of Jessica! I bet Stephen feels so stupid now! I know you’re not over him.”

  Of course she knew. Everyone knew. But I’d seen the other girl. I wasn’t who Stephen would end up with. “I don’t want to be his rebound.”

  Dana groaned. “Then at least come with me to say hi. You never know what might happen, hey?”

  Except I did know. It had been two months since Stephen and I broke up, and I missed him. Horribly. But I already knew the ending, and I wasn't going to put myself through that for no reason. “I’m almost home, Dana. You can go by and say hi if you want. Oh, by the way, I got a job. So tomorrow after school I have to work.”

  I could hear her getting ready to launch into another speech of some sort, but I didn’t want to hear it right now. I hung up the phone and tossed it across the car, out of temptation’s reach. It rang the rest of the way home, but I couldn’t grab it even if I wanted to.

  For a moment I indulged in a fantasy where Stephen and I got back together. He wept for leaving me and I forgave him, and we had a great relationship—for a week? Two? Prom was three weeks away. That didn’t leave much time for Stephen to have a relationship with me and then meet Ms. Prom Date.

  And besides, I knew something awful about Stephen’s family now. How could I spend time with him with that between us? No, I realized. If Stephen and I hadn’t already broken up, I would have to break up with him now.

  I parked the car in the driveway and leaned across the transmission to grab my phone.

  Four missed calls. Three from Dana and one from Stephen. Oh boy. It would be a long day in school tomorrow.

  

  Sure enough, the school day dragged by, with me doing my best to sidestep Dana every time she tried to drag me over to Stephen. As soon as it was over, I headed over to JT’s. I was one of the first cars out of the school parking lot, evading Dana and her insistence that I speak with my ex.

  “This is where you keep your stuff when you’re working.” Matt, a coworker and my designated tour guide, led me to the back of the restaurant and showed me a rack of hooks. I nodded and slipped my backpack on one of the pegs. “Here’s your uniform. And your nametag. Jayne? Hope they spelled it right, looks funny to me.”

  “It’s right.” I picked up the magnetic tag and examined it. “My parents wanted a unique spelling.”

  “Okay. Anyway, there’s a bathroom. You can change and then come up to the front. I’ll show you how to work the register and that’s all you’ll do today. Oh, and I’m the shift manager. Which means, I’m in charge when Tom’s not in.” He gave me a grin that bordered on shyness, as if he didn’t want to admit how cool it was to be a manager.

  I nodded. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the bathroom. A dirty mop stood in a corner and rust stained the white sink. Could be worse. At least I wouldn’t be messing with food today. I pulled my wavy brown hair into a ponytail, but a few pieces still escaped around my face. Then I noticed the hairnet sitting on top of my uniform. A hairnet. I lifted it between my fingers and sniffed it. At least it didn’t look used. I guess I couldn’t expect to look nice at this job.

  I suppressed a sigh and put the net on over my hair. Not even the wildest of curls could escape now.

  Suitably dressed, I headed for the front of the store. Matt had shoved a baseball cap over his hair, which I guess passed for a hairnet around here. He grinned at me, his brown eyes sleepy.

  “Hey, that looks cute on you. Come on.”

  He led me to the register and stood behind me, pointing to buttons and whispering hints while I tried to ring up customers. It unnerved me. “You know,” I said, turning around to face him, “I think I might be able to do this better if you’re not hanging over my shoulder.”

  Matt lifted both arms up in mock defense. “Just trying to help.”

  I took a deep breath and turned back around. I pushed at my forehead, but there was no hair to tuck behind my ear.

  “I know it’s the middle of the afternoon, but do you have any breakfast sandwiches left?”

  I couldn’t help but smile at Dana’s voice. I lifted my eyes and saw her, giving me a quirky grin just in front of my register. “Sorry, we don’t serve breakfast sandwiches after ten in the morning.”

  “Figures,” she sighed. “You look great, babe. Love the hairdo.”

  “Ah.” I fingered my hairnet. “You and me both.” I was happy to see Dana. She had thrown an absolute fit when I told her about my job, a fit that was made even worse when I confessed to not returning Stephen’s call. “What can I get for you?” Gabby, the girl working the register next to me, was moving customers at a much faster rate, but I could always play the “I’m new” card.

  “A cream-cheese and cranberry sandwich on a honey bagel. And a blueberry muffin.”

  I scanned the register and found the items without difficulty. “Anything to drink?”

  “Make me the latte of the day.”

  “Sure.” I flashed her a smile.

  Dana handed me her dad’s credit card. “Get yourself something too, if you’re hungry.”

  “I’m good.” I swiped her card. This wasn’t so different from ringing up clothes, after all. “There’s tons to eat here.”

  “I bet.” Dana smoothed her hands over her checked green and white sundress. Springtime was for dresses—we both agreed on that one. “Better watch your figure.”

  “I know you’ll watch it for me.”

  She shrugged. “It’s cuter than mine, so why not?”

  Her food came up from the kitchen, and I put it on a tray. “Here you go. Thanks for eating at JT’s.” I smirked.

  She slid the tray over and picked up the latte. “Call Stephen. It’s not too late. Don’t be such a scaredy-pants.”

  Before I could come up with an adequate reply, she was gone, sliding into a booth in the back.

  The thought crossed my mind again that I should just tell her. Tell her everything, about my Sight, and the visions, and my attempts to thwart destiny.

  But I knew I wouldn't. This was my burden to bear. My secret. She might think I was a chicken, but at least she didn’t think I was insane.

  Crazy Jayne, Crazy Jayne.

  The after-school crowd shuffled in and kept me busy for awhile. Dana slipped out with a wave and a motion for me to call her when I got off work. I waved back.

  “Hey.” Coworker Matt joined me at the register. “Any problems?”

  “Nope.” I shook my head. “So far, pretty easy.”

  “Great.” He pulled a wet rag off his shoulder, leaving streaks of water on his purple/turquoise shirt. “Orange juice spill in the left corner. You’re up.”

  “I’m up?” I echoed, taking the rag. “What, we take turns doing this?”

  “No.” He grinned. “You’re the new girl. You’ll be up a lot today. Have at it!”

  Funny guy. I could tell this job was going to be interesting. I stepped through the counter and began wiping up the orange juice. Still better than being stuck in the hot kitchen making food.

  I surveyed my work and went back to the kitchen. “Where do dirty rags go, Matt?”

  “Laundry basket in the back,” he yelled from the drive-thru window. I dumped the rag and hurried to the front.

  The smell of lemons hit me two feet
from the counter, and I staggered. No. I cast my eyes sideways and saw Gabby making quick work of the people in her line. The lemony-smelling customer could go over there. I turned around, knocking my thigh against the prep station in my rush to escape.

  “Hey, Jayne?” Gabby called. “I need a bathroom break. Cover, please?”

  Before I could even think of an excuse, Gabby hurried past me. Fine. I went over to her line, taking a deep breath. Lemon-person was in my line, and Gabby could handle him when she got back.

  “What are you doing?” Matt came over before I even started taking the first customer’s order. “You’ve got someone waiting at your register.”

  “My register?” I didn’t know the registers were assigned. “Gabby had a longer line and she asked me to cover for her.”

  “You don’t ever leave your register.” He turned to the customer in front of me, dismissing me without another glance. “What can I get for you?”

  I stood there, debating my options. I could run out the door, and lose this job on my first day. Or I could keep my eyes down, pretend to be shy, take this person’s order and be done with it.

  Matt shot me a dirty look, and I backed away. Option number two it would be.

  I shuffled back to my register, not lifting my eyes. I knew from the citrus scent that pervaded the air around me that the person hadn’t left. “What can I get for you?” I stared at the plastic covering the register keys.

  “Can I have a grilled Swiss sandwich on a cheese bagel and some potato wedges, please?” The customer’s tenor voice and rich English accent washed over me, melting me to the front of the register. I gripped the sides, using all my will power not to look up. Someone with a voice that beautiful had to be incredibly handsome.

  “Anything to drink?” I hoped he didn’t notice how my voice trembled.

  “Orange Fanta. Thank you.” Even the way he pronounced ‘Fanta’ tasted like a delicacy in my mind.

  I rang up his order and handed him the receipt, not trusting myself to speak again. I stared at his tanned hands as he took the paper and then handed me a credit card. Aaron Chambers. Curiosity got the better of me—that, and the desire to hear his voice again. “Are you visiting New Jersey, Aaron?”