“No.” I heard a smile in his voice. “My parents just moved here from Herefordshire. That’s in England, if you didn’t know.”
His parents. How old was he? My hand lingered with his card between my fingers. I was desperate to look at him. Almost desperate enough to accept whatever I might See. “And what are you going to do now that you’re here?”
“Jayne? That’s your name, right?”
Betrayed by the nametag. I nodded, staring at the letters embossed on his card.
“I bet you have pretty eyes.”
I felt my face grow warm. He was flirting with me! Oh, Satan, get thee behind me! I handed him back his card, then gathered up his food items and put them on a tray. “Thank you for choosing JT’s.”
“Thank you for serving me, Jayne.” My name sighed off his tongue, molding itself to the timbres of his voice. I listened to his footsteps die away, but only when the smell was gone did I look up.
Aaron from England sat facing me, his eyes down on his bagel as he unwrapped it. And yes, he was hot. I couldn’t see his eyes, of course, but his sharp cheekbones accentuated his strong jaw. He’d tamed his dark brown hair with gel, but a piece of it still swung in front of his chiseled features. I averted my eyes in case he should look my direction and instead admired his muscled physique. The short-sleeved blue polo showed off his biceps and golden hue. A soft sigh escaped my lips, and I shook my head. What a pity. He was definitely adorable.
I picked up my rag and wiped down the counter, waiting for Aaron to leave.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Jayne! Ja-ayne! JAYNE!"
I rolled my eyes and slammed my locker shut as Dana slid into the spot next to me. "What, Dana?"
Dana took a deep breath, her cheeks flushed under her sparkling blue eyes.
I raised an eyebrow, wondering what could have gotten her so riled. I’d seen her just before school started, and the only thing on her mind had been passing her statistics test. “I take it stats went well?”
She furrowed her brows. “What? Oh, that. Who cares? This is way more important. It involves a boy—more specifically, a man.”
“Oh.” I opened my bag, checking to make sure I had my calculus book. “Don’t you have enough men? What’s going on with college dude, anyway?”
She shrugged. “He introduced me to a friend of his. Haven’t heard from him since.” Dana didn’t sound too let down.
“Is friend cute?”
“Jayne! You’re so not listening to me!”
“Sorry.” I started pushing my way through the hall. Dana kept step with me. “I’m not into guys right now, Dana.”
“Please don’t tell me this is about Stephen,” she groaned. “You’ve been heartbroken over him since he broke up with you. And then you don’t return his call? I don’t think you have room to complain.”
For a moment I paused, my thoughts torn between the green-eyed lacrosse player and the mysterious boy from yesterday. Thinking of the former brought a tangible ache to my chest, while thinking of the latter brought such a tingle of excitement that it very nearly drowned out the ache.
“I knew it.” Dana’s voice was soft in my ear. “You’re just pretending to be over him. Because you’re afraid of getting hurt again.”
Afraid. Scared. Chicken. Dana knew me too well. I started walking again.
“Okay, so you don’t care about guys. I still do. Don’t make me suffer, Jayne! I’m dying to share details with you!”
I let a smile touch my lips. “All right, fine. What boy in our school has suddenly turned into a mature adult and become worthy of your attention?”
Dana hooked her arm through mine and let out a contented sigh. “No, Jayne. There’s a Benny at our school. And he is divine.”
“Benny” was the local term for an outsider, someone not from Forked River. I stopped and drew back, studying her face. “He just moved here?”
“Yes.” Dana gave a dreamy sigh. “And he looks exactly like Christopher Reeve—you know, in the Superman days.”
It couldn’t be him. I felt my heart tumble under my ribcage, and I didn’t know which emotion hit me stronger: fear or anticipation. “O-oh yeah?”
“And Jayne, he has an accent.” Dana closed her eyes and snuggled close to me. “The sexiest accent you ever heard. He’s definitely not American.”
“What color were his eyes?”
Dana’s eyes popped open. “What do you care? You don’t even like boys.” She slid into her spot at our shared calculus table.
I pulled my chair up next to her. “I’m just curious. I mean, how much like Christopher Reeve does he look?”
“Oh, like exactly. Only younger. He’s got those crystal blue eyes, if that’s what you want to know.”
I nodded and opened my book, pretending to have lost interest.
But inside a storm raged. I was jealous. Jealous that Dana could look into those eyes and have nothing happen, other than a swoon of ecstasy. I had to admit this guy had captured my interest.
Mr. Keuhl called the class to attention, and Dana whispered, “I’ll point him out to you if I see him.”
I gave a bob of my head, eyes still on the book. That wouldn’t happen. If I even smelled lemons, I ran the other way. I had my classes set up carefully; only two of them had people who triggered my Sight, and I sat as far away from those people as possible. The first week of school had been a bit crazy as I tried to rearrange my classes, but at least the office had cooperated with me.
Dana leaned toward me, about to whisper something else, when Mr. Keuhl turned around and glared at her. Slumping back in her seat, Dana hissed, “We’ll talk more at lunch.”
I didn’t bother answering. It was second period, and I still had to get through two more periods before lunch. Not that I minded. I enjoyed English, and my teachers treated me like a prodigy because I actually did the homework.
The bell rang, and Dana and I joined the throng of anxious students trying to get out of the classroom.
“See ya at lunch,” Dana said, popping a Dum-Dum into her mouth. “Wonder where Hottie is now?”
Several girls in the hall glanced back at Dana before whispering together and moving on.
“Looks like you’re not the only one who’s noticed him. Watch out,” I warned.
“From those girls?” Dana glanced over her shoulder. “They’re more likely to be the Lacey Township murderer than boy competition.”
“What?” I wrinkled my nose at her, perplexed. “Where did that come from?” The afore-mentioned girls might have claws under their manicures, but they sure weren’t murderers.
“Oh, you must not’ve heard. There was another murder last night. In the Pine Barrens.”
“Another murder?” I shook my head. “People get lost out in the Pine Barrens all the time.” I pictured the dense cedar forest just west of us. “Probably got dehydrated or something.”
“Right. And then slit her own throat?”
I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. I knew death, and I knew people went before their time. But murders? “That doesn’t happen around here.”
“Of course not. We don’t get cute guys from foreign countries either, and yet... there’s one here.”
I shifted gears with Dana, my mind already on the new kid. “Well, good to know you’re interested. I’ll steer clear.”
“Who even said I was interested?” She shrugged. “I just like looking.”
We both laughed and then turned down different hallways. I ran my fingers along the painted white brick. Dana had no idea how easy her life was. This whole Sight thing totally ran mine. How unfair.
I daydreamed my way through history, a class that didn’t require any more of my attention than a few devoted hours right before exams.
I opened my English folder on the way to fourth hour, just to make sure my outline was there for our final research project. I’d already started researching and nearly had my first draft finished, but the teacher only wanted to see the outline today. The topic
I had chosen, motifs in Shakespearean tragedies, was so open-ended that I could have outlined forever. I shouldn’t have any problems hitting the twenty-page mark.
The lemon scent caught me by surprise as I was about to enter the classroom. I froze in the doorway, eyes on my outline, afraid even to look up. What if I made eye contact with whoever it was?
But I knew who it was. English was not one of the classes I had to worry about. Which meant somebody new was here.
My stomach muscles tightened, and I debated what to do. The scent grew stronger, and someone bumped my shoulder. “Oh, sorry.”
There was no mistaking that accent. I closed my eyes, my shoulder tingling where he’d bumped me.
“Hey, don’t I know you?” His footsteps paused and then came closer, the lemon getting stronger.
I drew in a hasty breath, turning my back to him before I opened my eyes. “Not feeling well. Sorry!” I fled down the hallway, my heart beating in my eardrums.
Great. Not only was he in my English class, but he wasn’t going to avoid me. Which meant I had to avoid him.
But first I had to go to the nurse’s office and pretend to be sick. Otherwise, I’d get marked truant.
I hung out with the nurse through fourth period, claiming to have horrible cramps. She gave me some medication and let me sit for half an hour until it kicked in. Then she sent me back to class.
I didn’t go, though. I slipped into the bathroom and waited it out. Dana was right. I was nothing but a coward.
At lunch I waited for Dana by the vending machine, our usual meeting place. I tossed an apple in one hand and fingered a bag of Doritos in the other. My usual mix. I definitely ate healthier on the weekends. Or at least, I ate more.
The line in front of the machines began to die down, and still no Dana. Where was she? I distinctly remembered her saying she’d talk to me at lunch.
“Jayne?”
I’d know that voice in my sleep. I could picture Stephen’s Adam’s apple bobbing up with the word, his deep voice pushing the sounds out as if it required effort. But I turned around anyway, willing myself to breathe easy. “Stephen. Hey. How are you?”
His light green eyes flickered over my lunch, then up to my face. I knew he must be busy with team workouts; his lean torso and chiseled arms said as much. “You haven’t eaten yet. Come outside?” He inclined his head to the picnic tables just outside the door.
Dana and I usually ate outside, but not there. We chose the grass in front of the school, where we could watch most of the student population and feel the warm sunshine beating down on us.
I ran a hand through my wavy hair, letting my fingers free fall. “I’m waiting for Dana, Stephen. Have you seen her?”
“Oh, yeah.” Both eyebrows went up. “I saw her at her locker. She told me where to find you.”
And then decided not to show up. There would be time to kill her later. “Well.” I looked down at my sleeveless lavender dress, suddenly self-conscious. What did my face look like? Was I blushing? “Sure. That would be fine.”
Stephen escorted me outside. A slow breeze blew, and a tree above us dappled the picnic table with the shadow of its leaves. He sat on one side and patted the spot next to him.
“I met your dad.” I felt like an idiot right after I blurted out the words. Certainly there was more for Stephen and me to talk about than his parents.
“Really?” Stephen pulled a bottle of soda and three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches from his lacrosse bag. I eyed them, feeling a lump in my throat. His mom probably made those. “Where?”
Oh, great. The only answer to that would be to explain my failed interview. “Just saw him, really. We didn’t talk.” But I know how he’s going to die. In my head, I saw Mr. Harris step off the edge of the balcony.
Maybe getting to Mr. Harris wasn’t the answer. Maybe I should tell Stephen that his mom was sick.
And Stephen. What happened to him in all this? My head shot up, my eyes studying him, memorizing the scattering of freckles across his nose.
He squirmed a bit, looking uncomfortable under my scrutiny. “I tried to call you the other day.”
“Uh-huh.” I turned back to my food, suddenly not hungry. “The day Jessica broke up with you, you mean.”
“Hopefully you didn’t find out about it before I did.”
I recognized his attempt to lighten the conversation. I gave him a crooked grin. “I doubt it.”
“I totally know what you’re thinking. That I’m a jerk for dumping you. An idiot for liking her. You and I were totally friends before all that, and now we don’t even talk.”
I stayed silent, twiddling with the stem on my apple. What was I supposed to say? He was right, of course. That’s what I thought.
“Jayne, you’re such a nice girl.”
I winced. Nice. Not really what I wanted. “But Jessica was fun,” I said. “And outgoing. And popular.”
“No, Jessica was a ditz. It could never last. She wasn’t the type to be serious with.”
I glanced at him through narrowed eyes, wondering which had attracted him more, her boobs or the freedom. “Yeah, I bet she wasn’t. You could’ve waited to break up with me before you made out with her.”
“Jayne, quit it. I made some mistakes, okay? I’m sorry.” He took a bite of his sandwich, but his eyes never left mine. “I want to be friends again. I want to try again.”
My heart gave a little pitter-patter, grasping at strands of hope in spite of myself. “You want to try being friends again?”
“Are you trying to be dumb?” Stephen put his sandwich down and grabbed my shoulders, pressing his mouth to mine. He tasted like grape jelly. But it only took a moment before his lips pushed mine open and I stopped noticing the essence of pb and j.
I leaned into him, hungering for the warmth of his mouth. I’d missed kissing him. I wanted this back. I closed my eyes, getting lost in the memories for a moment. Hanging out in Stephen’s car, singing to 80s music while Stephen howled. Homecoming—leaning into his embrace, feeling like we would be together forever. We were meant to be together.
Except I knew better now.
“There.” Stephen pulled back and stroked my face. “Give me a second chance.” His thumb rubbed my lip. “Go to prom with me.”
I held the moment close to my heart, feeling the tears behind my eyes. What would happen if I said yes? How far would the preparations and charade go before Miss Blond showed up, offering Stephen something better than what he could get with me? I would be a fool to pretend like it would work. “I can’t.” I blinked and the tears overflowed. I pushed away from the table and grabbed my apple and chips, holding back a sob.
“Sure you can.” Stephen stood, taking my elbow. “I know I hurt you. I know it. I’m not just asking you ‘cause I got dumped. I want to be with you.”
He brought up a good point, though. I looked at him through blurry eyes. “Now you want to be with me. What about a month ago? Two months ago? How about in a month? Will you still want to be with me?” I shook my head. “No. I can’t.” I pushed past him, cursing Dana for making me go through that.
CHAPTER FIVE
I clocked in to my second day of work already tense from school. I'd avoided Dana for the rest of the day, turning the other direction when I saw her by my locker and barely talking to her in calculus. I wanted to make it very clear that I was angry with her.
I knew she got the message. She hadn’t bothered trying to call me, though she’d sent me several texts. I ignored them. We both knew I’d check them later, when I wasn’t so mad.
“Hey, what’s up?” Friendly coworker Matt came over and held up a hand. His blond hair curled up a bit around the edges of his baseball cap, courtesy of the humidity. I stared at his hand, wondering what he wanted me to do.
“Don’t leave me hanging.” Matt grinned at me around a toothpick. “If giving five’s not your thing, we can do a knuckle bump.” He made a fist with his hand.
“Oh.” Feeling like an idiot,
I made a fist also and bumped his knuckles. “Sorry. Been a rough day.”
“Nothing like working in the kitchen to make you forget your troubles. Come on, let’s show you the food prep.”
I groaned inwardly. Somehow I had managed to forget that this would also be part of my duties. I much preferred ringing people up.
Of course, I had to admit to myself, making bagel appetizers and bagel sandwiches wasn’t nearly as bad as flipping burgers or folding tortillas. At least, the reputation was better. The afternoon went by quickly in the back. A fan whirred, blowing the air around but not really cooling it. Before I knew it, Matt stood beside me.
“You’re doing great, new kid. Break time.”
“Really?” I wiped my brow with a paper towel. The hair around my head was frizzing under the hairnet, more from sweat than anything else. “Great, thanks.”
I used my employee discount to purchase a large chocolate chip muffin. I needed it. I sat at a corner table facing the window and unwrapped the calorie-laden indulgence. The fresh chocolaty smell wafted up to me and a smile caressed my lips.
I lifted the muffin to my mouth and took a bite, feeling the chocolate bits melt against my tongue. My eyes closed and I relished the taste. I was all set to take a second bite when my nostrils picked up a hint of citrus.
My eyes flew open. We baked the muffins fresh every morning, and I knew there was no orange or lemon in the chocolate ones. I spun my chair around and inhaled sharply.
There he was, standing at the register. I knew just from the back of his head. Aaron. What was he doing here? He’d been here yesterday! Surely he didn’t come from England with an addiction to JT’s.
I watched him place an order, then I swiveled back around, staring at my muffin. He didn’t know I was here. He’d get his food, eat, and leave. Tomorrow I’d figure out what to do about English class.
Several sets of footsteps danced in different rhythms around me as customers went to their tables with trays of food. Quick, hesitant, light, heavy. My ears perked up as one set drew steadily closer. With them came that oppressive lemon smell.
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