Nash, Emma and I fell into the stream of students right behind the huddle of green-and-white football jackets, and as we passed the last picnic table, I looked to the right, where Coach Rundell had now taken over CPR from Coach Tucker. Even sick with guilt and numb with shock, I had to see for myself. Had to prove to my head what my heart knew all along.
And there Meredith lay, long brown hair fanned out across the dead grass, her face visible only when the coach sat up for a round of chest compressions.
My eyes watered and I sniffed back more tears, and Nash stepped up on my right, blocking my view as we climbed the broad concrete steps into the building. Inside, the lights were all off because of the lockdown. But the cafeteria windowsa virtual wall of glasshad no shades and were too big to cover, so daylight streamed in, casting deep shadows and lighting the long room in a washed-out palette of colors, in contrast to the bright light usually cast from the fluorescent fixtures overhead.
At the far end of the room, the jocks had gathered in a silent, solemn huddle around one of the round tables. Several sat with their elbows propped on wide-set knees, heads either hanging or cradled in both hands. Number fourteenwhod tried valiantly to save Meredithheld his girlfriend on his lap, her face streaked with tears and mascara, his arm around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder.
Other students sat grouped around the rest of the tables. A few whispered questions no one had answers for, a few more cried softly, and everyone looked stunned to the point of incomprehension. There had been no warning, no violence, and no obvious cause. This lockdown didnt fit with the drills we practiced twice a semester, and everyone knew it.
The tables were all occupied, and several small groups of students sat on the floor against the long wall, holding backpacks, purses, and short stacks of textbooks. Emma looked shaken and pale as we made our way toward an empty corner, and I could feel my legs wobbling, left almost totally numb by the accuracy of my second prediction in three days. Only Nash seemed relatively steady, his bruising grip on my hand the sole indication that he might not be as calm as he looked.
We sat in a row on the floor, Em on my left, Nash still clutching my right hand, each too stunned to speak. My thoughts were chaotic, a never-ending furor of guilt, shock, and utter incredulity. A private cacophony in absolute contrast to the hushed, somber room around me. And I couldnt make it stop. Could not slow the torrent long enough to wallow in any single emotion, or puzzle out any one question.
I could only sit, and stare, and wait.
Minutes later, sirens blared to life down the street, warbling softly at first, but growing in volume with each passing second. The ambulance came to an earsplitting halt at the front of the school, but by the time it rolled carefully around the building and past the cafeteria windows, the electronic screeching had gone silent, though it still echoed in my head, a fitting sound track to the mayhem within.
The ambulance stopped out of sight of the windows, but its lights flashed an angry red against the dull brown brick, declaring an optimistic urgency I knew to be unnecessary.
Meredith Cole was dead, and no matter how long they worked on her, she wasnt coming back. That bitter certainty ate at me, consuming me from the inside out until I felt hollow enough to echo with each aching thump of my heart.
While the medics worked outside, teachers came and went from the cafeteria, occasionally answering questions from anyone brave enough to speak up, and at some point, the senior guidance counselor pulled up a chair at the jocks table and began speaking softly to those whod been close enough to actually see Meredith fall.
Eventually, the vice principal came over the intercom and declared that the school day had been officially suspended, and that we would all be dismissed individually, once our legal guardians had been contacted. By that time, the red lights had stopped flashing, and though no one had yet made the announcement, it echoed around us like all-important truths, unvoiced, and unwanted, and unavoidable.
After that, the first group of students was called to the office and Emma leaned against me while I leaned against Nash, letting his scent and his warmth soothe me as I settled in for the wait. But minutes later, Coach Tucker stopped in the cafeteria doorway and scanned the faces until her gaze landed on me. I sat up as she navigated the maze of tables, heading right for us, and stood when she reached out a hand to pull me up, barely sparing a glance for Nash and Emma when they rose. The dancers are understandably upset, and were calling their parents first. Sophies not taking it well. Her sponsor spoke to your mother, and theyd like you to go ahead and take your sister home.
I sighed, grateful when Nashs hand slid into mine again. Shes my cousin.
Coach Tucker frowned, as if details like that shouldnt matter under the circumstances. She was right, but I couldnt bring myself to apologize.
Dont worry about your books. She eyed me sternly now. Just get her home.
I nodded, and the coach headed back through the cafeteria, motioning for me to follow. Ill talk to you guys later, I said, glancing from Emma to Nash as I squeezed his hand. She smiled weakly, and he nodded, digging his phone from his pocket.
Id just stepped into the hall, heading toward the office, when my own phone buzzed. A glance at the screen showed a blinking text message icon. It was from Nash.
Dont tell anyone. Will explain soon.
A moment later, a follow-up message arrived. It was one word: Please.
I didnt reply, because I didnt know what to say. No one would believe me if I tried to explain what had happened. But the premonitions were real, and they were accurate. Silence no longer seemed like an option, especially if there was any chance I could stop the next one from coming true.
If I could at least give the next victim a warningand maybe a fighting chancewasnt I morally obligated to do just that?
Besides, hadnt Nash suggested I tell my aunt and uncle the day before?
Kaitlin! Over here. I glanced up to find Mrs. Foley waving me forward from the atrium outside the front office. Sophie sat on the floor behind her, beneath the foliage of a huge potted plant, surrounded by half a dozen other red, mascara-smeared faces.
Its Kaylee, I muttered, coming to a stop in front of the stunned dancers.
Of course. But the sponsor didnt look like she cared what my name was. Ive spoken to your mother but I didnt bother to tell her that would be impossible without a Ouija board and she wants you to take Sophie straight home. Shes going to meet you there.
I nodded, and ignored the sympathetic hand the dance-team sponsor placed momentarily on my shoulder, as if to thank me for sharing some venerable burden. You ready? I asked in my cousins general direction, and to my surprise, she bobbed her head in assent, stood with her purse in hand, and followed me across the quad without betraying a single syllable of malicious intent.
She must have been in shock.
In the parking lot, I unlocked the passengers side door, then went around to let myself in. Sophie slid into her seat and pulled the door closed, then turned to face me slowly, her normally arrogant expression giving way to what could only be described as abject grief.
Did you see it? she asked, full lower lip quivering, and for once absent of lip gloss. She must have wiped it all off, along with the tears and most of her makeup. She looked almostnormal. And I couldnt help the pang of sympathy her misery drew from me, in spite of the bitch-itude she radiated every other day of my life. For now, she was just scared, confused, and hurting, looking for a compassionate ear.
Just like me.
And it kind of stung that I couldnt totally let my guard down with her, because I had no doubt that once her grief had passed, Sophie would go all Mean Girls on me again, and use against me whatever Id shown her. See what? I sighed, adjusting the rearview mirror so I could watch her indirectly.
My cousin rolled her eyes, and for a moment her usual intolerance peeked through the fresh layer of raw sorrow. Meredith. Did you see what happened?
I turned the key in the ignition, and my little Sunfire hummed to life, the steering wheel vibrating beneath my hands. No. I felt no great loss over having missed the show; the preview was quite enough to deal with.
It was horrible. She stared straight out the windshield as I buckled my seat belt and pulled the car from the parking lot, but she obviously saw nothing. We were dancing, just showing off for Scott and the guys. Wed made it through all the hard parts, including that step where Laura usually skips a beat in practice.
I had no idea what step she was talking about, but I let her ramble on, because it seemed to make her feel better without putting me on the figurative chopping block.
and were nearly done. Then Meredith justcollapsed. She crumpled up like a doll and fell flat on the ground.
My hands clenched the steering wheel, and I had to force them loose to flick on my blinker. I turned right at the stop-light, exhaling only once the schooland thus the source of my latest premonitionwas out of sight. And still Sophie prattled on, airing her grief in the name of therapy, completely oblivious to my discomfort.
I thought shed passed out. She doesnt eat enough to keep a hamster alive, you know.
I hadnt known, of course. I didnt typically concern myself with the eating habits of the varsity dance squad. But if Merediths appetite was anything like my cousinsor my aunts, for that matterSophies assumption was perfectly plausible.
I thought shed passed out. She doesnt eat enough to keep a hamster alive, you know.
I hadnt known, of course. I didnt typically concern myself with the eating habits of the varsity dance squad. But if Merediths appetite was anything like my cousinsor my aunts, for that matterSophies assumption was perfectly plausible.
But then we realized she wasnt moving. She wasnt even breathing. Sophie paused for a moment, and I treasured the silence like that first gulp of air after a deep dive. I didnt want to hear any more about the death Id been unable to prevent. I felt guilty enough already. But she wasnt done. Peyton thinks she had a heart attack. Mrs. Rushing told us in health last year that if you work your body too hard and dont fuel it up right, your heart will eventually stop working. Just like that. She snapped her fingers, and the glitter in her nail polish flashed in the bright sunlight. Do you think thats what happened?