Seers (3 page)

Her clothes were also perfect for the part—the leggings, the boots, the black sleeveless top. She never did anything halfway.

But unlike most Goths at school, who were surrounded by gray auras, Lee was surrounded by a mixture of blue and yellow.

She opened the passenger door, nodded wordlessly at the twins, then sank into the seat.

“Hey,” she greeted me, slamming the door and instantly reaching for the iPod to find a new song. The twins were so deep in their argument they didn’t even notice.

“Hey,” I returned, cautiously pulling away from the curb and into the empty street. “The nose ring is . . . a good touch.”

“Hurts like a mother,” Lee informed me, starting a song with lots of thudding bass. She turned up the volume, settled back in her seat and then looked at me for the first time. “In a word, don’t.

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Ever.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” I assured her, cracking a small smile.

“So,” Lee gusted, slapping her hands on her knees. “Here we are—seniors. Weird, huh?”

“Yeah. It really hit me this morning.” She bobbed her head, but didn’t say anything. Aside from the music and the twins, we drove in silence. But things were never awkward with Lee. She always knew exactly what I needed.

I dropped the girls off at the nearby elementary school and wished them good luck. Josie didn’t say anything, only shouldered her bag and walked quickly toward the soccer field. I decided not to mention that the bell would be ringing soon.

Jenna sighed and shoved her novel into her backpack. “You too, Kate. And don’t worry, I’l have a good day, as long as the Nameless One stays away from me.” With that she slipped out of the car, shut the door, and walked toward the school.

Lee whistled lowly. “Were we ever like that at that age?”

“I think we were worse,” I said simply. I glanced out my window, searching for a break in the traffic so I could pull away from the curb. A van rolled slowly past and I found my opportunity to slide in behind.

As I started inching toward the parking lot exit Lee turned in her seat to stare at me, quieting the music as she did so. “So, how you doing?”

I shrugged a little, keeping my eyes on the maneuvering cars around us. “I’m still psychic, if that’s what you mean.”

“I wasn’t meaning that,” she hinted delicately.

I nodded once, braking as the SUV in front of us stopped to let some obnoxious boys dart towards the school. “I know.”

“Are you at least talking to Aaron again?” She persisted, unwilling to drop the subject. Best friends could be annoying that way.

I exhaled loudly. “We texted for an hour last night.” I shrugged a single shoulder. “I guess we’ll see what happens in person.”

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“You’re just going through a rough patch. It happens in all relationships.”

“He said I was taking too long to recover,” I said stiffly, my voice pained despite my best efforts. “He said they’re gone, and I should just move on. Focus on us. On now.”

“So he was a selfish idiot. So are all guys. At least Aaron isn’t always a jerk. He’s actually a decent guy most of the time.”

“I know,” I said, inching past a slowly turning car. The moment the car had completed the turn and we were clear, I lurched quickly past them. “We’ll just have to see how today—” My words clogged in my throat and I gasped, fiercely slamming in the brake and clutch. The car stopped violently and Lee screamed, grabbing for the dash. My seatbelt bit into my body painfully, reminding me of old bruises. I blinked rapidly and stared at the idiot standing in front of the hood—the one who had caused my gut-wrenching panic.

He was too old to be a student here. Probably in his early twenties—maybe twenty-one. He had dark brown hair, and the brown skin of a Hispanic. He was dressed in jeans and a blue T-shirt. He was peering directly into my eyes through the windshield, looking calm though just a split second before he’d stepped right in front of a moving car.

Lee was cursing in her seat, slipping back into a habit she’d been struggling to break since she was fifteen. For once, I wanted to join her. I could have killed him!

“What’s wrong with you?” Lee panted, her voice mixed with fear and some anger. “Warn me the next time you decide to randomly test out your brakes, okay?”

“What?” I gaped at her, breaking my gaze with the idiot so I could exclusively regard my best friend. “But didn’t you—” I couldn’t think of what else to say—the words seemed crazy enough in my head. I gaped at her a second, then glanced back out the windshield. I completely lost my breath.

The man was gone.

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Two

Lee hadn’t seen anyone. According to her, I’d just stopped talking and slammed the brakes for no reason.

I tried to describe him to her, but Lee just stared blankly at me until I stopped talking. I guess there are limits to what best friends will believe, and invisible Hispanic guys definitely cross that line.

Someone honked behind us, and without a word I resumed driving.

My heart was still hammering in my chest, and as I quickly scanned the school grounds I fought to regain my breath. I knew a college-aged Hispanic should stand out in this crowd, but I didn’t see him. It was like he’d disappeared. Or—worse—like he hadn’t been there at all.

I tried not to let Lee see how shaken I was as I merged onto the road and headed for the high school. She didn’t question my ability to drive, or my sanity either. I wanted to tell her that for a girl who believed in psychics, you’d think she’d put a little bit more credence into invisible people.

But I didn’t. For some reason, I couldn’t. Because as much as the incident had scared me, this was my day to prove to myself and to my friends that I could be normal again. I couldn’t mess this up.

No matter what.

Five minutes later, we were locking our doors and staring up at the familiar brown buildings. Lee seemed to have completely forgotten the elementary school incident, and was texting calmly

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as we walked toward the school. Though I didn’t want to think about what had happened, or even admit to myself that I’d seen an invisible man, I couldn’t forget the rush of pounding adrenaline.

It was an awful feeling, because it was so familiar. I found myself unconsciously rubbing my shoulder, where the seatbelt had bit into my body.

Lee suddenly touched my arm, pulling me out of my thoughts.

She offered a tentative smile, and her black fingertips gently mas-saging my tense muscles. “I’ll see you second period, okay? You gonna be all right?”

I blew out my breath and forced a smile. “Yeah. Perfectly fine.” She raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and I relented. “I just . . . that adrenaline rush was . . .”

“It’s okay. Cars make you nervous now. Totally understandable. Don’t even worry about it.” She pulled a face and drew back her hand. “Off to English, I guess. Enjoy Lit.”

“Thanks. See you in History.”

She offered a quick wave while she turned away, flipping open her phone once more.

I continued moving toward the large front doors, trying to pull in a few deep and bracing breaths. Several people called out to me, asking about my summer. I responded with a forced smile and simply one-word answers: Fine. Great. Fun. Anything but the truth.

Once inside I moved for Mr. Benson’s American Lit class. It was an AP course, and I was pretty excited for it. Or rather, I had been. Before . . .

My father had taught English at the nearby college, and he’d even begun to dabble in fiction writing before he died. He’d always loved the written word, and he’d tried to pass that love on to his daughters. Jenna and I had caught on to the magic eagerly, but Josie was more athletic in temperament. She was the odd one out when it came to the Bennett family.

I had never read a classic unless he’d first shared it with me, 18 K • • •

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and we’d both been excited for this class. But now he was gone, and I wondered if I’d dare read Melville or Poe without him.

I found the classroom easily because I’d taken English from Mr. Benson last year in the same room. I took a seat toward the front of the room, nodding to the two other students present. I knew them both, but not well.

A short minute passed. Then Aaron stepped into the room.

He was everything a girl could want in a boyfriend. Tall, strong, good looking, dashing smile, gentlemanly, athletic, and trustworthy. He lived two blocks from me, though he’d moved in only four years ago. We’d started dating steady just over a year ago, when we were both barely seventeen. His passion was basketball, but he enjoyed pretty much every other sport as well. He’d decided against playing football this year, and had decided to concentrate on swimming instead. He was smart, and he knew what he wanted from life.

I was lucky to have him, and I knew it.

But ever since the accident our relationship had been different. Strained. He was getting frustrated with me, and I had to admit that I understood. I wouldn’t want to be with me, either.

Put simply, I just didn’t want to do anything anymore. He’d ask to talk. I’d say no. He’d want to go see a movie. I avoided him. He wanted to take me out to eat. I was never hungry.

He was such a positive person. He couldn’t seem to understand my lingering pain. Once I’d been released from the hospital, he thought things would get better. They hadn’t. The only reason I hadn’t let him go was because I needed stability in my life—the kind of stability a wonderful boyfriend could offer. Completely selfish, I know. But I still loved him. I was sure of it. Even if things didn’t feel the same anymore. I mean, a single event couldn’t change my feelings for him.

Why was I feeling a shadow of doubt?

All these thoughts flashed through my mind as I watched him move toward me. He smiled a bit tentatively as he took the seat

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next to me. “Hey, you look great today,” he told me quietly, leaning in to kiss me briefly.

I felt nothing when his lips brushed mine. Once, I had. But now . . .

I faked a smile when he drew back. “Thanks, Aaron,” He glanced around the room. “Smallest class I’ve ever been in. What kind of thing did we sign up for? If I have to read Moby Dick, I swear . . .” his voice trailed off into silence. We were both remembering the last time we’d been together. The words that both of us had said.

Three more students filtered into the classroom during our awkward stillness.

Finally Aaron turned back to face me, his voice low. “Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to do dinner tonight?”

“Sure,” I said, wincing inwardly at the lack of excitement in my voice. “That would be fun.” I insisted, trying to make us both believe it.

I could see the frustration in his green eyes, but his smile was caring. “We’ll go to the malt shop. You love their cheese fries, and—

trust me—something unhealthy will really do you good.” My smile was more natural this time and it was obvious that he could tell, because his athletic body slowly relaxed.

Aaron’s aura was the bluest I’d ever seen. He was so sure of his life—so content with what he had. Sure, he had a little green, and the tiniest bit of competitive red—but he was really the calmest person I knew. I honestly couldn’t imagine my life without him.

A few more students filtered in before Mr. Benson stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He had large glasses, and stuttered occasionally when he got excited. He taught several classes here, but often said that this was his favorite.

I straightened in my desk and focused on Mr. Benson; hoping some of his pink excitement would rub off on me.

“Welcome to a new year!” He said enthusiastically. “M-Most of you know me already, but if not—I’m Eric Benson. Let’s circle 20 K • • •

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our desks together—I want to see everyone.” Minor confusion ensued for a moment, but soon we had twelve desks forming a sloppy, oblong circle. Mr. Benson joined the so-called circle, sitting near the door with a sheaf of papers clutched in one hand. “All right, first off I’m going to pass these around. I want you to tell me your favorite book—American classic or not—and why you like it so much. Also, add your name and email address, and what you want to learn from this class.

It doesn’t have to be in essay form, but remember I’m an English teacher and I cringe at badly developed ideas. That said,” he passed the stack to the left, and a red-haired girl pulled out a blank sheet and passed on the rest.

Mr. Benson continued to talk as he watched the paper go around. “Now, r-right off the bat I’m going to tell you that I want this class to be fun. I want this to be about you guys, so I’m going to need your participation. Do the assignments, and be ready to discuss the readings. D-do that, and you’ll get an A for sure. Now, I know some of you from previous English classes, but lets all introduce ourselves anyway.”

In the usual way, introductions were made. After I introduced myself, Mr. Benson asked how I was doing. I could tell by his aura that he was sincere, but I kept it to the one word answer, and he didn’t press me for more. The introductions continued with barely a hitch.

When Aaron got the stack of paper, he pulled out two sheets before leaning around me to pass the remaining pages on. He then kept one for himself, and handed the other one to me. I knew I should appreciate his thoughtfulness. Instead, I found myself fighting back a surge of frustration. He actually leaned around me rather than hand me a stack of paper? Did that seriously just happen?

Still, I was trying to save our relationship, not completely bomb it, so I just sighed, nodded some thanks, and then bent toward my backpack to get a pencil.

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While I was leaning down the door to the classroom suddenly opened. I sensed everyone turning to view the latecomer, but I dropped my pencil, so I wasn’t able to follow their gaze immediately.

A deep and resonant voice filled the room. It was low, but powerful, and carried an unmistakable Irish accent. “Excuse me.