Intuition t-2 Read online

  “So you’re just being the hero and stepping aside?” I ask in frustration. I need to remind him of what we have together, so I lean in closer, reaching for his hand, but instead of meeting me, he shrinks back. I stand completely still in an effort to keep whatever shred of dignity is still clinging to me. “It’s like I don’t matter to you at all.”

  He bites his lip, and I know he’s using a distraction technique before he speaks. “You do matter to me,” he says quietly. “That’s why I have to do this.” He pushes himself away from the sink and I think for a second that he’s going to lean in and put his arms around me again. But he doesn’t. “We’ve talked about what makes fate and destiny. Now it’s time to go find out for yourself.”

  Griffon walks back to the study and I’m left standing in the empty kitchen for several long seconds. I want to scream and cry and do whatever it takes to snap him out of this. But deep down I know that none of it will do any good. He’s made his mind up about how things are, and nothing I say is going to change that.

  Even though I know it’s not, the house seems strangely vacant as I walk through the kitchen toward the front door. As I pass Griffon’s painting hanging in the living room, I wonder if this is the last time I’ll ever see it, the last time I’ll ever be here.

  Kat and Rayne don’t say a word as I open the door, but the car is filled with expectation. I sit down in the front seat and deliberately fasten my seatbelt, the metallic click echoing through the silent interior. I don’t trust my voice; my heart is so heavy. I think of a million things I could say, a million things that I want to say to him that will probably stay inside me for the rest of my life. That I’m not Allison anymore. That I want to rewind time and never show the pendant to anyone. As these thoughts race through my head, I come up with the only one I can actually say out loud.

  “It’s over. Let’s go home.”

  Eleven

  “Nicole Ryan! Did you know about this?” Mom must be all the way out in the living room, but even with my head buried under the covers I can hear her just fine.

  “Crap,” I mutter to no one. I lift one corner of the comforter and peer at the clock next to my bed. Kat must be somewhere over Texas by now. She promised she’d tell them before she left. Now I’m the only one left to deal with all of the garbage that she’s stirred up.

  I hear Mom pounding down the hall seconds before my door flies open. “Did you know about this?” she repeats.

  I roll over to face the doorway where she’s standing and waving a piece of notebook paper. “Know about what?” This kind of answer is just going to piss her off more, but I need to buy some time to think.

  “This. This note from your sister! What does she mean she’s meant to be with Owen and she’s gone to England?”

  I roll back over and face the wall. It’s become a familiar sight in the past few days in that, except for some trips to the bathroom, it’s pretty much all I’ve seen. “I guess it means she’s gone to England.” Not even a week ago I was feeling sorry for her because Owen was leaving. Doesn’t take much to turn everything upside down.

  “Did you know what she was planning? It’s the Fourth of July, for God’s sake. The block party is this afternoon—what am I going to tell everyone?”

  I shrug, unable to even rustle up any emotion about this. So Kat’s on a plane, on the way to live with her boyfriend in London. Not like I’m going to feel sorry for her. Or guilty for not giving Mom a heads-up. Ever since I left Griffon’s house, I’ve felt dead inside, hollow, like all of the emotion has been sucked out of me. I honestly couldn’t care less.

  Mom bangs her hand on the wall in frustration and I jump just a little bit. “What about school? What about her future? Oh my God, the money we’ve already paid out for college! How could she just up and leave like this? Your father is going to go crazy.” She waits for a reply, but getting nothing, she slams my door and stomps back down the hall.

  Now that she’s gone, I relax a little bit. I vaguely remember Kat coming in to say good-bye early this morning. At least I think it was this morning. I’ve spent so much time in this bed that the days are starting to run together. Not that I’ve been doing a lot of sleeping. Seems like every time I close my eyes, all I can picture is the look on Griffon’s face when he spotted me and Drew in the practice room. The pain in his eyes as he finally walked away causes my stomach to clench. I’ve spent entire days and nights picking apart every word of our conversation, wishing I could do it over again. If I could go back in time and change only one thing, it would be talking to Drew that day at the studio. I’d have shoved him out the door and refused to look at anything he had to show me. I thought I wanted answers about what happened in that lifetime, but not at the expense of what I have in this one.

  My door opens again and I brace myself for another onslaught from Mom, but instead a paper bag sails across the room and lands on my leg.

  “Get up, already,” Rayne says, closing the door behind her. “Your allotted grieving time is over. You need to get the hell out of this house.”

  I pull the covers over my head. “I can’t go out. I never want to go out again.”

  “Oh, come on.” Rayne sits down on the edge of my bed and bounces up and down a little. She smiles at me and points at the bag. “I got you one of those disgusting bagels you like.”

  My stomach turns at the thought of a jalapeño bagel with salmon cream cheese. “Thanks. But no.”

  “I ran into your mom on the porch. Boy, is she pissed.” Rayne gives me a crooked smile. “Guess she found out about Kat, huh?”

  I shrug. “Nothing they can do about it. She used her own money. Happy Independence Day to Kat.”

  “Yeah, but it’ll totally take the heat off you. Nothing you can possibly do will be as big as this. She did you a favor.”

  “Yeah. I’m grateful. Kat left me here to deal with everything after she promised she wouldn’t. She’s going to go live an amazing life in London and I’m stuck here.” Without Griffon. I close my eyes, trying to banish the thoughts that are creeping into my head.

  “How long are you going to stay here, anyway? You’re missing work, and there was a great party in the Mission last night. Plus, it’s the Fourth—you have to come watch fireworks. We’ll grab a couple of chairs, go down to Aquatic Park, freeze our butts off, and try to see something through the fog. You can totally hang out with me and Peter.”

  I look at her, knowing that she means it all in the nicest possible way. Anybody else would seriously piss me off. “Yeah. The three of us will have a great time together. Maybe we can all huddle under the same blanket. Not awkward at all.”

  “So now that Griffon’s gone, you’re going to spend the next year in your room? I’m not going to let that happen. You have to get out there—you’ll feel better. At least just come with me to the café. If you won’t eat, maybe a little coffee will do you good.”

  An Americano with half and half is the first thing that’s sounded even remotely palatable in days. I grab a pillow and hug it to my chest. “Will you go get me one?”

  “No. I’m sorry, the To Go window is closed. You have to come get it yourself.” She bounces a few more times and then stops, a serious look on her face. “Come on Cole, I’m worried about you. We all are. I know how much this totally sucks, but you have to let him get this out of his system. When Griffon has time to think about it, he’ll come back.”

  I’ve tried telling myself different versions of the same thing, but the reality I have to face is that Griffon’s gone. “He won’t,” I say. “You didn’t see his face. He really means it.” He won’t let me explain or let himself believe what really happened. Despite the fact that I’m trying to be practical and realistic, tears well up in my eyes.

  “Oh, man,” Rayne says and scoots up to brush the hair out of my face. “Honey, I’m so sorry. I wish I could fix it. The best I can do is drag you out for a lousy cup of coffee.”

  “I know,” I sniff, trying to get a grip on myself. “I appre
ciate it.”

  I look down at my bunched-up sheets, noticing their sour smell for the first time. I don’t want the life that waits for me outside of this house. The one without Griffon in it. But I’m starting to make myself a little sick. Maybe just one cup of coffee. Then I can come home, change my sheets, and climb back into bed.

  “Just give me an hour,” Rayne prods. “You don’t even have to come to the fireworks tonight. Just get out of this house. You’ll feel better.”

  “I don’t want to feel better,” I say, throwing the comforter back. “The only way I’ll ever feel better is if Griffon changes his mind, and that’s not going to happen. I want to feel every moment of this misery.” I sit on the edge of the bed and put my feet gingerly on the floor. “Plus, you know I don’t like fireworks.”

  “If you want to wallow, go ahead. One cup of coffee and I’ll let you come running back here.” Rayne pulls me to my feet. “But first, do the rest of us a favor and go take a shower.”

  I tuck the sleeping bag around my feet and settle back into the folding chair. It’s almost totally dark now, but the music is still playing from the bandstand up the street and Frisbees are still whizzing by my head on a regular basis. I’m trying hard to share Rayne’s holiday mood and not sink back into the depression that’s become oddly comforting, like a favorite pair of worn jeans. I glance up at the overcast sky—it’s like a blank slate now, but in a little while it’s going to explode with lights and noise. Waiting for fireworks shows always makes me a little jumpy. Once they start I’m usually okay, but I get a little flinchy at the beginning.

  Rayne leans against my legs. She and Peter are sharing a sleeping bag on a tiny patch of grass we’ve carved out for ourselves, and even though they’ve tried to keep the contact to a minimum, I can’t help but notice how happy they are together. “You warm enough?” she asks, looking up at me.

  “I’m okay. Once in my life I’d like to watch Fourth of July fireworks without wearing a parka and a sleeping bag.”

  Peter pulls a wool blanket from around his shoulders and hands it to me. “Here, take this. I’m warm enough.”

  That one small gesture brings tears flooding into my eyes. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” I can feel the sadness well up from somewhere down deep until it seems like it’s going to crash over me like a tidal wave. If I stay here, I’ll drown. I kick the sleeping bag off my legs. “I’m going to walk around for a little bit.”

  “But the fireworks are going to start in a couple of minutes. You can’t go wandering around down here by yourself.”

  “You were the one who said I needed some fresh air. I’m just going to go find a little more. There are thousands of people here, nothing’s going to happen.”

  “Are you sure? I feel so bad.”

  “I’m sure. Don’t feel bad. I’m doing enough of that for everyone.”

  “Keep your phone on,” Rayne says as I stand up and zip my jacket tight. “And text me.”

  “Yes, Mom.” I turn around and look at all the people crowding every available space and try to decide which way to go. I really just want to be alone right now, and where better to do that than in the middle of five thousand people? Without a destination in mind, I start to head back toward Fisherman’s Wharf. A few people bump me while I walk, but almost everyone is settling in to their small patch of grass or sidewalk to wait for the fireworks to begin.

  I’ve only gone about a block when one lone pop fills the sky with red and makes me jump. There are people crowded on every horizontal surface, but I find a tiny space on a brick wall and squeeze myself into it. The fog above our heads flashes with color as the giant fireworks begin to light up the night. I try to wipe my mind clean of all thoughts and just enjoy the noise and the oohs and ahhs of the crowd of strangers around me. One loud whistling firework ends in a trail of sparks that seem to embed themselves in my brain. The overwhelmingly loud sound of the crackle and hiss as it comes back down to earth fill my ears, and before the panic can take hold, I realize that I’m being pulled into another memory.

  The fireworks explode in the dusty street, but I’m so used to the noise now that I don’t even jump when one goes off right next to me.

  “Throw it!” my brother yells, handing me a small, flaming cylinder.

  “Thamun! Stop!” I shout, trying to get everyone out of the way and toss it onto the ground as all of the faces around us light up with color. All the other boys my age squeal and run in different directions, trying to get their own firecrackers to light.

  It seems like it took forever for Diwali to get here, and we finally get to stay up late, eating sweets and tossing firecrackers into the street. I feel a little sorry for Kavita because she’s stuck inside with the girls cooking and cleaning, so I light another firecracker in her honor and toss it at Varun’s feet, laughing as my big brother screams like a girl and runs away just in time to avoid the flash.

  In seconds he’s back, his dark eyes shining. “Ramesh, look at this one.” He’s holding a round ball that is almost as big as his head. Varun caresses the side as if it’s a pretty girl’s cheek, and grins at me. “This is going to be the best one of the night.”

  “Where did you get that monstrosity?” I ask. I’d never seen a big one that close up before.

  “I did a favor for someone,” my brother says cryptically. “Get everyone to stand back and I’ll light it.”

  “Thamun!” I shout again as loud as I can, but it seems as if no one is listening. “Look out! Varun is about to light the biggest of them all!”

  I hear a hiss as the flame makes contact with the wick, and turn away for just a second to grab one of the little boys who is racing right into the line of fire. Before Varun has time to toss it away, there is a blinding flash and a noise that is loud enough to rip the ears off one’s head. The air is filled with the sounds of screaming, and I’m on my knees, my hands clawing at the dirt that is quickly getting damp with drops of something from above. I can’t see anything in my panic, and it takes a few seconds to realize that the deafening screaming is coming from my own throat.

  I jump as the air seems to vibrate with another loud bang, but this one is high in the air above my head. My heart is beating fast with the panic of the firecracker accident. Diwali. I remember my friend Gabi talking about that holiday. This must have been the glimpse of India I’ve had a few times before. I touch my hands to my face as I think about what happened. What came after that night? Did I survive?

  The fireworks are coming fast and furious now, so it must be the finale; I wonder how long I’ve been gone. I glance around but everyone is motionless, their necks craned toward the sky to watch the clouds flash and change color.

  “You’re back.”

  I startle at the words as Drew turns to face me, and anger fills me instantly. “What are you doing here?”

  He pauses to let some of the loudest fireworks pass. “Protecting you. Do you have any idea how vulnerable you are when you’re in the middle of a memory?” Even though my ankh is hidden by my jacket, I feel the weight of its presence every time he speaks.

  “Apparently very vulnerable, if you’re any indication.” I jump down off the wall and start to walk into the crowd, but Drew jogs to catch up.

  “Would you stop running away from me?”

  “Only if you’ll stop following me.”

  “I wasn’t following you,” he says, dodging people as they bend down to pack up their chairs and blankets. “You’re in my neighborhood.”

  I look around and realize he’s right. I’d forgotten that the party at Francesca’s house was only a block or two from here. I glance out toward the water, realizing that just a few weeks ago, Griffon and I were wrapped up in each other, staring at the very same view. I walk faster.

  “Things aren’t going so well at home and I just needed to get out of the house. I saw you sitting there,” he explains. “I could tell that you were in no shape to be left alone, so I just sat next to you and waited. Is that so wrong?”


  I stop and face him, barely able to contain my desire to punch him in the chest. The anger rolls off me in waves, and Drew must sense it because he takes one small step backward. “You’re all wrong! If you hadn’t shown up at the studio the other day, everything would be fine.” I clench my fists, trying to keep my voice steady. “Griffon’s gone.”

  Drew raises his eyes to meet mine. “Maybe he sees what you refuse to. That we’re destined for each other.”

  “We are not!” I turn and start to walk away. The people around us are already beginning to thin out, and I scan the crowd for Rayne and Peter.

  “Wait,” Drew says, and reaches out to touch my sleeve, but I shrug him off. Even through the thick fabric I can feel the vibrations between us, so I step back until they become just a dull ache.

  “Griffon was everything to me. He’s Sekhem,” I say, the pride in my voice unmistakable. “Important Sekhem. Not like some selfish, low-life Khered.”

  Drew’s face registers the surprise I’m sure he wanted to hide. “Is that what you think? If that’s true, I can only imagine what kind of crap he’s been telling you all this time.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “There are other facets to life than what the Sekhem have been feeding you. Khered take advantage of the opportunities we’ve been given in a different way. The Sekhem don’t have all the answers. It’s not only about hard work and crushing responsibility.”

  Responsibility. That word has been following me around since the day I had my first memory. “What are you talking about?”

  “There are many ways to live in this world, and apparently you’ve only been shown one tiny side of the benefits that our kind of immortality can bring.”

  Immortality. I hadn’t really thought of it that way before. As pissed as I am at myself for staying and even talking to him, another part of me is just the tiniest bit curious. “And you have another?”