Inevitable (2 page)

She turned her head toward me, and I ducked back, heart pounding. There were two things I could always expect with a vision: the lemon scent beforehand, and the woman afterward. She’d probably always been there, but I had only noticed her in the past year or so.

The visions were coming more often. I used to get them a few times a year, at most. Now I got them several times a week. It unnerved me, made me anxious about going out in public. And I was beginning to resent the woman in white, who surely knew what was going on and did nothing to stop it.

I ran all the way down the two flights of stairs, stopping only when I reached the first floor. Shoving open the bathroom door, I dropped into a stall and snapped my phone open. I had to be the only person left on earth without a smartphone.

“Dana?” I whispered, finally returning my best friend’s phone call.

“Oh, Jayne!” Dana’s bubbly, perky voice sang out from the small blue speaker. I winced, holding it away from my ear. “I totally forgot. You’re in an interview, aren’t you?”

“Was.” I exhaled, feeling my blood pump a little slower. I hated Seeing. “It wasn’t working out. So I left.”

“Ugh.” Dana gave a non-committal grunt. “How so? One of your feeling things?”

I paused, considering how to answer. I kept telling myself that I should tell Dana about my ability, but somehow I could never bring myself to do it. “Yeah. Just didn’t feel right.”

“Oh, well, sorry. So, what are you doing now? Want to come over?”

I could just picture Dana, blue eyes sparkling with mischief. Confi
dent, not a care in the world. She wore her curly blond hair cut at the shoulders, where it always bobbed in perfect ringlets. “Well, I have some free time. I should probably get back to job hunting.” I relaxed against the toilet seat. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, just organizing.”

Emerging from the stall, I stopped in front of the mirror and examined my eyes. Just slightly red now. “Organizing what?”

“My closet. Why don’t you come over?”

Really, I wanted to go home and light a candle. The pink one called “Sweet Pea.” It was the only thing that could clear the visions from my head. But it could wait. Dana was a year older than me, and at graduation next month we would be parting ways. I didn’t want to miss a chance to be with her. “Yeah. I’ll be right there.”

I slipped the phone into my purse and pushed open the bathroom door. The secretary sat behind the front desk, talking on the phone and writing a message. I brushed my short brown hair in front of my face, shouldered my purse, and marched by with as much confidence as I could muster. My heels clicked across the marble flooring, echoing in the silent lobby. Nobody called out to me and I walked through the revolving doors without a second look.

Fresh air. My shoulders relaxed, even though I knew at any moment I might turn the corner and be accosted by someone’s death.

I didn’t know what the official stats were, but I felt sure the majority of people in New Jersey die peacefully in their sleep, just like in the rest of the world. For some odd reason, I didn’t get to See those people. The ones I Saw were dying before their time. And usually it’s not a happy death.

Worry about something else,
I told myself.
Like getting to the car before the parking meter runs out.

Sunshine fought to get past the gray clouds in the New Jersey sky. I shoved on a pair of sunglasses, wishing they would keep me from Seeing. I took out a newspaper subscription for a month, just to check out the obituaries. Once I saw how many accidental deaths occurred every week, I realized I was bound to run into some of these people during my daily activities.

Somehow this knowledge didn’t make me feel better.

I only had ten minutes left on the parking meter when I got to my decade-old white Honda Accord. Since I couldn’t seem to hold a job, I couldn’t afford anything nicer.

The thought made me scowl. I always froze up when I smelled that citrusy, lemon smell. I didn’t want to know their lives, and especially not their deaths.

Even now, images of Mr. Harris’s impending suicide danced before my eyes. The man with the kind voice and professional exterior was upstairs in his office, probably interviewing the next hopeful intern, blissfully unaware of the unhappy turn his future would take.

CHAPTER TWO

I
turned the car on and checked my CD player.
The Fray
. The dramatic, melancholy sound was exactly what I needed. Turning it up a few notches too loud, I merged with traffic and headed to Dana's house. She lived in a posh residential neighborhood of Forked River, overlooking Deer Head Lake. With the late afternoon traffic, it would take me at least half an hour to get there. I settled in for the drive.

The music washed over my mind. By the time I parked the car in the circle drive of Dana’s white plantation-style mansion, the only worry left was if I had dirt on my shoes. The warm spring sunshine kissed my cheeks and I tossed my head, smelling the salt that carried inland on the breeze. I loved living close enough to the ocean to smell it.

I used my key to let myself in the front door. “Hello?” I could never remember Dana’s housekeeper’s schedule, and she didn’t like to be caught unaware. No answer. I slipped my heels off and padded up the off-white carpet.

Stepping into Dana’s room was like stepping into a fairy land. The bubble-gum pink carpeting interrupted the tranquil off-white at the door frame. She had finally replaced the twin canopy bed a few years ago with a full that had enough frills and lace on the comforter to be an advertisement for curtains. But the unicorn and fairy wall mural remained, a reminder of the care-free days of childhood, when we still dreamed of being princesses and hoped for happily-ever-afters.

Today, though, a mound of clothing grew outside the walk-in closet. Dana poked her head out, holding a phone to her ear. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I replied.

“Yeah, sounds fabulous.” She nodded at me and snapped her gum, round blue eyes sparkling.

What sounded fabulous? I cocked my head before realizing she wasn't talking to me. I crawled over her mess and collapsed on the bed.

“Listen, Jayne’s here. I’ll call you later. Great. Bye.” She tossed the phone on the covers next to me and pounced down, propping her chin up with her hands and flashing a smile. “Jaynie! If you really want a job, you’re going to have to stop being so picky, you know.”

“I know.” I grabbed one of her pillows and hugged it to my chest. “But not that job.”

She hopped off the bed and disappeared into her closet again. That was easy to do, since the closet was bigger than my bedroom. “You don’t really want to work. You just like having job interviews.”

“Whatever, Danes.” I couldn’t defend myself without telling her the truth, so I let her assumption slide. “What are you doing in there? Spring cleaning?”

Her head poked out, and she threw an empty suitcase on top of the clothes. “No. Packing.”

“Again?” I tried to sound light but ducked my head before she could see my reaction.

We had always planned to stay close to home and go to Brookdale Community College, about an hour from here. But when Dana got accepted into Massachusetts Institute of Technology on a math scholarship, she didn’t turn it down. Not only that, but she planned to exit Forked River as soon as graduation was over.

Not that I blamed her. Lacey Township and the towns that made it up had nothing new or interesting to offer. Which was exactly why I intended to stay put.

“I have to make sure I can fit everything.” The bed sank a bit and I looked up as Dana sat cross-legged in front of me. “You’re smart. Don’t you want to do something exciting with your life?”

That was just it. I didn’t. I faked a smile. “No. You think I’m boring or something?”

“Well, you were more fun before...” She looked up, her eyes widening. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

Before Stephen and I broke up.
She didn’t have to say it. We used to do things together. And not just normal things like dances and movies, but things like scuba-diving and hiking and going to Walmart at two a.m. To restock our candy supply. Now all of my focus was on surviving the school year.

I chewed the nail on my index finger. “Let’s go do pizza-karaoke tonight.”

Her eyes lit up. “Now you’re talking. Karaoke! It’s been forever.” She tossed aside her suitcase. “You’re on, girl.”

“But I’m driving.”

“No problem.” Dana paused in front of her vanity, reapplying purple lipstick and fluffing her short blond hair. “I’m out of gas, anyway.”

I narrowed my eyes and frowned. Her parents gave her a handsome gas budget. “Wherever have you been driving to?”

She gave me a sheepish grin. “I met this guy at the club last week. He invited me up to campus, and I’ve gone a few times. I’m not interested in him, you know. It’s just...fun.” Dana threw a scarf at me, which I caught. “Put that on, it matches what you’re wearing.”

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?”