Parallel Visions (3 page)

“
You didn ’
t. Running can bring on an attack sometimes.
”
The wheezing is getting lighter. Behind us, Mr. Taylor shouts at the students to run faster.

I glance at Gil out of the corner of my eye. I have to say something. If I don ’
t and the girl dies, I ’
ll never forgive myself. But that doesn ’
t make this any easier. I lick my lips.
“
Gil—do you have a cousin who ’
s a girl? Maybe a sister? Who might be...depressed?
”

Gil stiffens beside me, his fingers clenching my arm.
“
A sister. Why?
”

I briefly close my eyes.
I hate this part . People don ’
t believe me. And Gil will never see me the same way—if he ever comes near me again. I ’
ve lost so many friends this way. But I have to say something. I can ’
t let his sister die.

“
I think your sister is going to try to kill herself.
”

Gil jerks away from me, his mouth tight.
“
Why would you say that?
”
He jabs his finger at me.
“
Why the fuck would you say that?
”

I try to stand tall, taking another puff on my inhaler, just to make sure I don ’
t have a relapse.
“
I ’
m sorry. I know it ’
s a shock. But hasn ’
t she been depressed? Not sleeping, not showering or getting dressed?
”

“
Yes. But. How. Do. You. Know?
”
His hands clench and unclench.

“
I—um...I see things. Visions—when I have an asthma attack. I know it sounds crazy, but I always have—and they always come true. Unless somehow we can prevent it.
”

I wait for him to shove me, or turn away, or call Mr. Taylor. But he doesn ’
t do any of those things. Instead, his hands open, his shoulders loosen, and his mouth gets softer.

“
You see things, ”
he says without inflection.

“
Yes.
”
I cough, but it ’
s reflexive. My breathing is almost normal again, although my chest aches.
“
I see the future, and sometimes the past. I wouldn ’
t have said anything, but your sister—she was lining up pills on her desk.
”

“
What pills?
”

I can
’
t believe he ’
s still talking to me. This is where people usually freak out. I bite my lip.
“
Prescription bottles. A lot of them.
”
I hesitate.
“
I think I recognized one of them—it was light purple, like Ambien . My dad takes it for insomnia.
”

“
Ambien . Yeah. That ’
s right, ”
Gil says softly. He takes my arm and we start walking again.
“
Do you know when?
”

I think back. I didn ’
t see a calendar, a computer screen showing a date, or anything that ’
d give me a clue. But then I remember her cell was face up on her desk. I concentrate hard, pulling the image back to me.
“
I think—it was the twenty-third of this month.
”

“
Crap. That ’
s only three days from now, ”
Gil says.
“
I ’
ll talk to her. I ’
ll get my nana to talk to her. We ’
ll figure something out.
”

“
There ’
s something else, ”
I say.
“
She was staring at a torn photo of a woman. She crumpled it in a ball, like she was angry, before she took the pills.
”

“
It ’
s our mom, ”
Gil says, running his fingers through his hair.
“
She left when we were little, around this time of year. Inez is a few years older than me and she remembers her better. She ’
s never gotten over it.
”

“
I ’
m sorry, ”
I say quietly.

We walk across the parking lot, past a group of students leaning against the fence smoking, their cigarette smoke twisting and undulating above their heads like snakes. I try not to breathe until we pass them. Gil steers me toward the dull, scratched metal doors.

I walk slower.
“
Why do you believe me?
”

“
Don ’
t you want me to?
”

“
Of course I do! But people usually think I ’
m crazy when I tell them about what I see.
”

Gil looks at me, his eyes dark and serious.
“
I don ’
t think you ’
re crazy. My nana—she ’
s a bit like you. She ’
s got...a gift.
”

My heart skips a beat. I ’
ve never met anyone else like me.
“
She ’
s clairvoyant, too?
”

“
No, she ’
s a medium. She talks to the dead.
”

“
Oh.
”
My shoulders slump. I should be glad; it ’
s the first time I ’
ve ever heard of anyone even remotely like me. But she ’
s not a seer. Just for a second, I ’
d thought I wasn ’
t alone anymore.

Gil squeezes my arm.
“
I need to deal with this, to make sure Inez is okay. But later—if you want—you can meet my nana. She ’
ll talk to you.
”

“
Thank you, ”
I say. Tears burn my eyes.

He pulls open the heavy door and I stumble in, almost tripping over the concrete step. Gil catches my arm again.

“
Before we ran, you were watching me, ”
Gil says.
“
Was it because you saw my sister?
”

My cheeks turn hot.
“
No. My asthma hadn ’
t kicked in bad yet.
”
I cringe inside, waiting for him to ask why I was watching him, but he doesn ’
t. We walk down the empty hallway, passing classrooms full of students bent over their desks, their teachers droning on.

I glance at Gil to find him watching me, his eyes amused.
“
Well, this is it, ”
he says, and I see we ’
re outside the nurse ’
s office.

My cell rings. I look at the screen, then roll my eyes.
“
My mom, checking up on me. Mr. Taylor must have called her already.
”

“
You ’
re lucky. I wish my mom had cared so much.
”
He hands me my backpack and turns to leave.

My cell rings again.
“
Wait, Gil! Let me know how your sister is, okay?
”

“
Sure.
”
He pulls a scrap of paper out of his pocket, and writes his number down with a chewed up pen.
“
Here, ”
he says, handing me the scrap.
“
You see anything else, you call me. Okay?
”

“
Yeah.
”
My cell rings once more, insistently.
“
I should answer that or she ’
ll come tearing down here.
”

“
Yeah, you should, ”
Gil says, smiling at me almost sadly, then walks away.

I sigh and walk into the nurse ’
s office, past all the familiar posters about the dangers of cigarette smoke, the importance of getting a flu shot, and how to prevent sun stroke. I ’
m here so often, I ’
ve memorized them all. I answer my cell.
“
Hi, mom. I ’
m getting checked out by the nurse now.
”

“
How bad was it?
”
Mom asks anxiously.
“
Did you use your inhaler?
”

“
I ’
m fine. It was just a mild attack.
”
Well, it wasn ’
t severe, anyway.
“
I took four puffs. It calmed down. I ’
m okay.
”

“
I ’
ll come pick you up.
”

“
No! Let me stay the rest of the day. It ’
s not that long. And I ’
ll probably head over to Jenna ’
s afterward. Besides, I thought you were showing a house.
”

Mrs. Williams, the school nurse, pokes her head out of her private office and waves at me.
“
Be right there, ”
she mouths.

“
You know I can reschedule, ”
Mom says.
“
That ’
s why I became a realtor—so I could be there when you need me.
”

“
I ’
m okay, Mom, honest. Please let me stay. I ’
ve missed so much school already. It was just a little flare-up.
”

“
You ’
re sure?
”

“
Yes! I ’
m good now. And I haven ’
t seen Jenna in weeks.
”

Mom sighs.
“
I want you home right afterward. And if you ’
re not feeling well, if you start wheezing again, I want you to call me immediately.
”

“
Okay. I promise, ”
I say, and hang up.

Mrs. Williams comes out of her office and looks at me sympathetically.
“
Another attack?
”

“
Yeah. But I ’
m all right now.
”

Mrs. Williams squints at me.
“
You ’
re talking in full sentences and you don ’
t have a loud wheeze. That ’
s a good sign. But I can still hear it. I think you should stay here a while so I can keep an eye out for you.
”

She would. Mom is like the asthma liaison for the entire school, educating every teacher and staff member she can find. I sigh.
“
Okay. But I need to call my sister.
”

Mrs. Williams wags her finger at me, but her eyes are smiling.
“
Go ahead. The room ’
s empty—but come to me if it gets worse.
”

She retreats back into her office.

I walk into the tiny student room with its beige walls, industrial carpet, and fluorescent lighting, and sit down on the padded bench, speed dialing Jenna.

“
Jenna?
”
I don ’
t know how to say this. I should probably wait until I can see her face. But I keep seeing Mason punch her, and Jenna crumpling to the floor.
“
Are you all right?
”

“
Of course I am, ”
Jenna says.
“
Why wouldn ’
t I be?
”

I grip the phone harder.
“
Well—are you and Mason all right? I mean, does he treat you okay?
”

“
Of course! Why would you ask that?
”
I can hear the anger and fear in Jenna ’
s voice, but I can ’
t stop.

“
Has he ever hit you? Because if he has, you know you can come home any time. Mom and Dad would love to have you back.
”

“
Where are you getting this from? Is this one of your crazy hallucinations? I don ’
t know what you think you saw, but we ’
re good, ”
Jenna says sharply.

My wheezing is getting louder again. I force myself to breathe slower. I cough.
“
I ’
m just worried about you.
”

“
I ’
m fine. Sounds like you should worry about yourself.
”

I wish I knew exactly how to change the future. How hard I need to push. Unless Jenna is telling the truth and it ’
s my visions that are lying. Mason has always seemed like a nice guy. Maybe my visions aren ’
t always right—maybe they ’
re just one likely outcome. An outcome that I can try to change.