Authors: Cheryl Rainfield
“
Wow?
”
Gil lightly smoothes his thumb against my hot cheek.
“
Wow.
”
I grin at him.
“
But wait—how could you not know I liked you?
”
“
What should I have seen?
”
Gil asks, smiling.
“
Me staring at you all the time. Me trying to be near you, like running on the track with you and setting off an attack. And how about today—when I told Jenna you were my boyfriend?
”
“
I thought you were just covering up why we were really there. I didn ’
t think you meant it—though I was hoping.
”
“
I see I ’
m going to have to be less subtle with you, too, ”
I say, grinning.
Gil laughs and grabs my hand, swinging it as we walk, the sun warm on our backs.
“
You never seemed to care. All the other girls flutter around me.
”
“
I don ’
t flutter, ”
I say dryly.
“
I know. That ’
s one of the things I like about you.
”
“
No fluttering. Got it.
”
“
Hey, just be yourself. I like who you are, Kate.
”
“
I like who you are, too, ”
I say. I feel so light I think I could fly.
We turn the corner onto my street.
“
My house is just up there—fifth one on the right, ”
I say, pointing at our narrow three-story brick house, painted a sky blue.
Gil whistles.
“
Nice place, ”
he says, and I know he ’
s thinking of his family ’
s small apartment.
“
Your place felt homey and warm, ”
I say.
“
Yeah, it ’
s the people in it that really matter.
”
Gil leans forward and kisses me again and it feels just as good as it did last time.
I pull away reluctantly. I don ’
t want to go—but I don ’
t want Mom to look down the street and see us kissing before I tell her about him.
Gil squeezes my hand.
“
Let me know how your sister is. If we have to follow up, we will.
”
“
Promise.
”
I kiss him again, then hurry up the street. Mom ’
s car is already parked in front of our house, but Dad ’
s isn ’
t here yet. A cool breeze chills the warmth from my skin, the sky turning a gun-metal grey.
A car door swings open so close it brushes against my knee.
I jump back as Mason gets out, blocking my way. I curse myself for not noticing.
“
Sorry, Kate. I didn ’
t mean to scare you, ”
Mason says, holding up his grimy hands.
“
Can I talk to you a minute?
”
I look over my shoulder, but Gil is already gone, the street deserted. An empty cigarette pack skitters across the road, pushed by the wind.
“
Sure, ”
I say nervously. This close to Mason, I ’
m aware of how much bigger he is than I am. His chest muscles strain against his T-shirt and his arms are thick and ropey .
“
What was that today?
”
Mason says, taking off his cap and rubbing the top of his head.
“
Your dropping in unannounced? I thought you knew you should call first.
”
“
Sometimes I just need to see Jenna.
”
Mason slaps his cap against his thigh.
“
I ’
m really worried about her—she ’
s been so stressed lately—and you ’
re not helping.
Dissing our relationship, telling her she can ’
t trust me—you ’
re not acting like a friend. Not like the sister I know you are.
”
His eyes look pained, and he keeps shifting from foot to foot, like he ’
s uncomfortable with what he ’
s saying. He has an almost haunted look on his face. He doesn ’
t look like a man who beats his wife.
“
I know you love her, ”
he says, “
But sometimes we don ’
t see what we ’
re doing to the people who are closest to us. I ’
ve come to ask you to stop hurting her.
”
My cheeks sting.
“
I ’
m not the one who ’
s hurting her.
”
Am I?
“
I love Jenna. I would never do anything to hurt her, ”
Mason says.
“
She ’
s the best thing in my life!
”
I never actually
saw him hitting Jenna—except in my mind ’
s eye.
“
She seems so unhappy right now, ”
I say .
“
That ’
s what I ’
m trying to tell you!
”
It feels surreal to be standing here, having this conversation, when he tried to kill Jenna only a few hours ago. But I didn ’
t actually see it happen. And Mason looks so concerned for her. Maybe I really am hallucinating it all.
But my visions feel so real. And I was right about Inez....
“
Will you stop lying to Jenna?
”
Mason asks, sounding hopeful.
I can
’
t promise that. Not if my visions are real. But are they?
“
I promise I ’
m trying to look out for her, ”
I say.
“
That ’
s what I ’
m trying to do, ”
Mason says bitterly.
But I don
’
t know if I can believe him.
Mason and Jenna arrive at our house together, as if Mason hadn ’
t been waiting for me only an hour earlier. Jenna ’
s smile is too bright and brittle, and she ’
s moving a little too carefully. Mason hovers next to her, like it hurts not to breathe in her air. His hair is combed back, he ’
s switched his T-shirt for a dress shirt, and he stinks of mouthwash—to cover up his smoking. I can feel Mom and Dad watching them, trying not to look like they are.
“
It smells good in here, ”
Jenna says cheerfully.
“
I know it ’
s vegetarian, ”
she glances at me, “
But what is it?
”
Another thing to resent me for—Mom going vegetarian for my health.
“
Quiche, ”
Mom says.
“
Hope you like quiche, Mason.
”
“
Oh, I ’
ll eat anything, ma ’
am, ”
Mason says, smiling an aw-shucks smile.
“
Good man, ”
Dad says, clapping Mason on the shoulder.
“
That ’
s the right answer.
”
“
Jenna, how are you doing?
”
I ask.
“
Jenna ’
s just fine, ”
Mason says, pulling Jenna closer. Jenna smiles brightly.
“
In fact, she ’
s more than fine. She ’
s pregnant!
”
“
Jenna!
”
Mom cries and rushes to hug her.
Dad
’
s face gets all red and he pumps Mason ’
s hand up and down, then hugs Jenna like she ’
s a delicate flower he might crush.
“
Congratulations, ”
I say, hugging her hard. I try to smile, but I can ’
t keep the worry from crowding out everything else. If Mason is beating her now, what ’
s he going to do when the baby ’
s born? A wailing, attention-demanding baby?
“
I was going to tell you myself, ”
Jenna says, squeezing my arm.
“
Are you happy for me?
”
“
You know I am, ”
I say. But how can she stay with him now?
“
I would have made something special if I had known...., ”
Mom says.
“
It ’
s fine, Mom. Whatever you made is great, ”
Jenna says.
“
How far along are you?
”
Mom asks, resting her hand on Jenna ’
s belly.
“
Just twelve weeks. We wanted to wait until we passed that point to tell you.
”
Three months. And if my visions are real, Mason kicked her in the stomach while she was pregnant—never mind that he tried to kill her. It ’
s amazing she didn ’
t have a miscarriage. I grit my teeth, wishing I could get her away from him and somewhere safe.
“
Have you told Asha and Rina yet?
”
I ask. Maybe her friends can talk some sense into her.
“
You ’
re the first we ’
ve told, aside from my mom, ”
Mason says, resting his hand on the back of Jenna ’
s neck.
“
I ’
ve kind of drifted apart from my friends, ”
Jenna says.
“
We don ’
t have that much in common anymore.
”
“
Oh, you ’
ll have to call them and tell them your news!
”
Mom says.
“
They ’
ll be so happy for you!
”
“
I ’
m happy for her—enough to light up the world, ”
Mason says.
“
I know you are.
”
Mom pats his hand.
“
Now come along, everyone! Let ’
s eat.
”
Mom leads the way into the dining room. She ’
s put cloth napkins out on the table, the way she does for company, a bowl of salad, and French bread. Mason pulls out Jenna ’
s chair for her and she looks up at him gratefully, like he just did something wonderful. I try not to roll my eyes.
Mason takes a seat across from me. He and Dad start laughing away, talking about football and cars as they eat. Mom and Jenna talk about the books they ’
re reading. I don ’
t know how Mom ’
s going to get any time to talk to Jenna alone. Mason is so attentive, always getting Jenna anything she might want before she even asks. Soon Mom starts clearing the dishes. Jenna gets up to help her and I ’
m relieved—maybe they ’
ll have a minute to talk now. But then Mason jumps up, taking his glass and Dad ’
s, and joins them in the kitchen.
I scowl after him.
“
Be happy for Jenna, Kate, ”
Dad says.
“
She ’
s starting a family.
”
How can I be happy for her if she ’
s in danger?
Mason, Jenna, and Mom come back carrying bowls of apple crumble.
Just as I
’
m spooning up a piece of the sweet apple, Mason clears his throat.
“
This is real hard to say, but I don ’
t know how else to do this except to just say it.
”
He points his spoon at me, and looks at my dad.
“
Do you know your daughter thinks she sees visions? And that she can predict the future?
”
I
’
m sitting right here, jerk.
Mom freezes, her spoon midair. Dad pauses, mid-chew, and tugs his cuffs down.
“
Yes. Yes, we do, ”
Mom says.
“
Have you considered that maybe there ’
s something medically wrong with her?
”
Mason leans forward. Outside, thunder rumbles.
“
Jenna says she only gets these ‘
visions ’
when she has an asthma attack. Maybe it ’
s hypoxia.
”