No, umAre you still at Scotts?
Yeah. Hang on. Something brushed against the phone, and dimly I heard Nash say, Here, man, take over for me. Then footsteps clomped, and the background noise gradually softened until a door creaked closed, and the racket stopped altogether. Whats up?
I hesitated, rolling onto my stomach on my bed. He hadnt signed on for this kind of drama. But he hadnt run from the death predictions, and I had to talk to someone, and it was either Nash or Emmas mother. Okay, this is going to sound stupid, but I dont know what else to think. I heard my aunt and uncle arguing, then my aunt called my dad I swallowed back a sob and wiped more moisture from my face. NashI think Im dying.
There was silence over the line, then engine noise as a car drove past him. He must have been in Scotts front yard. Wait, I dont get it. Why do you think youre dying?
I folded my lumpy feather pillow in half and lay with one cheek on it, treasuring the coolness against my tear-flushed face. My uncle said he thought Id have more time, then my aunt told my dad that he needed to tell me the truth, so I wouldnt think I was crazy. I think its a brain tumor.
Kaylee, youre adding two and two and coming up with seven. You must have missed something. He paused and footsteps clomped on concrete, like he was on the sidewalk. What did they say, exactly?
I sat up and made myself inhale slowly, trying to calm down. The words werent coming out right. No wonder he had no idea what I was talking about. UmAunt Val said I was living on borrowed time, and that I shouldnt have to spend any of it thinking I was crazy. She told my dad it was time to tell me the truth. I stood and found myself pacing nervously back and forth across my fuzzy purple throw rug. That means Im dying, right? And she wants him to tell me?
Well, they obviously have something important to tell you, but I seriously doubt you have a brain tumor. Shouldnt you have some symptoms, or something, if youre sick?
I dropped into my desk chair again and ran my finger over the mouse pad to wake up the monitor. I looked it up, and
You researched brain tumors? This afternoon? Nash hesitated, and the footsteps paused. Kaylee, is this because of Meredith?
No! I shoved off against the desk so hard my wheeled chair hit the side of the bed. Im not a hypochondriac! Im just trying to figure out why this is happening to me, and nothing else makes sense. Frustrated, I scrubbed one hand over my face and made myself take another deep breath. They dont think Im crazy, so its not psychological. And my relief at knowing that was big enough to swallow the Pacific Ocean. So it has to be physical.
And you think its brain cancer.
I dont know what else to think. Theres one kind of brain cancer that sometimes doesnt have any symptoms. Maybe I have that kind.
Wait He paused as a gust of wind whistled over the line. You think you have a tumor because you have no symptoms?
Okay, I still wasnt making any sense. I closed my eyes and let my head fall against the back of the chair. Or maybe the premonitions are my symptom. Some kind of hallucination.
Nash laughed. Youre not hallucinating, Kaylee. Not unless Emma and I have tumors too. We both saw you predict two deaths, and we saw one of them actually happen. You werent imagining that.
I sat up in my chair, and this time my long, soft exhalation was in relief. I was seriously hoping youd say that. It helpedalbeit a tiny little bitto know that if I was dying, at least I was going out with my mind intact.
Glad I could help. I could hear the smile in his voice, which drew one from me in response.
I swiveled in my chair and propped my feet up on my nightstand. Okay, so maybe Im having premonitions because of the tumor. Like, its activating some part of my brain most people cant access. Like John Travolta in that old movie.
Saturday Night Fever?
Not that old. My smile grew a little, in spite of what should have been a very somber conversation. I loved how easily Nash calmed me, even over the phone. His voice was hypnotic, like some kind of auditory tranquilizer. One I could easily get hooked on. The one where he can move stuff with his mind, and learn whole languages by reading one book. And it all turns out to be because he has brain cancer and hes dying.
I dont think Ive seen that one.
He gets all kinds of freaky abilities, then he dies. Its tragic. I dont want to be tragic, Nash. I want to be alive. And suddenly the tears were back. I couldnt help it. Id had more than enough of death in the past few days, without adding my own to the list.
Okay, youre going to have to trust me on this, Kaylee. The footsteps were back, and then a door closed, cutting off the bluster of wind on his end of the call. Then his voice got softer. Your premonitions dont come from brain cancer. Whatever your aunt and uncle were talking about, thats not it.
How do you know? I blinked the moisture from my eyes, irritated with how emotional I was becoming. Wasnt that another symptom of brain cancer?
Nash sighed, but he sounded more worried than exasperated. I have to tell you something. Ill pick you up in ten minutes.
CHAPTER 8
Seven minutes later, I sat on the living-room couch, my keys in my pocket, my phone in my lap, my fingernails rasping anxiously across the satin upholstery. I was angled to face both the televisionmuted, but tuned to the local evening newsand the front window, hoping no one would realize I was expecting company. No one, meaning my aunt and uncle. Sophie was still out cold, and I was starting to wonder how many of those pills her mother had given her.
Aunt Val was in the kitchen, banging pots, pans, and cabinet doors as she made spaghetti, her favorite comfort food. Normally she wouldnt indulge in so many carbs in a single meal, but she was obviously having a rough day. A very rough day, if the scent of garlic bread was any indication.
Hey, Kay-Bear, how you holdin up?
I glanced up to find my uncle leaning against the plaster column separating the dining room from the living room. He hadnt called me that in nearly a decade, and the fact that he was using my old nickname probably meant he thought I wasfragile.
Im not crazy. I met his clear green eyes, daring him to argue.
He smiled, and the resulting smile lines somehow made him look even younger than usual. I never said you were.
I huffed and shot a glare toward the kitchen, where Aunt Val was stirring noodles in a huge aluminum pot. She thinks I am. I knew better than that now, of course, but wasnt about to let on that Id heard their argument.
Uncle Brendon shook his head and crossed the eggshell carpet toward me, arms folded over the faded tee hed changed into after work. Shes just worried about you. We both are. He sank into the floral-print armchair opposite me. He always sat there, rather than on the solid white chair or sofa, hoping that if he spilled something, Aunt Val would never notice the stain on such a busy pattern.
Why arent you worried about Sophie?
We are. He paused, then seemed to consider his answer. But Sophiesresilient. Shell be fine once shes had a chance to grieve.
And I wont?
My uncle raised one brow at me. Val said you barely knew Meredith Cole. And just like that, hed sidestepped the real questionthat of my future well-being.
And we both knew it.
Before I could answerand I was in no hurryan engine purred outside, and I glanced through the sheers to see an unfamiliar blue convertible pull into the driveway beside my car, glittering in the late-afternoon sun. Behind the wheel was a very familiar face, crowned by an equally familiar head of thick brown hair.
I stood, stuffing my phone into my empty pocket.
Whos that? Uncle Brendon twisted to look out the window.
A friend. I gotta go.
He stood, but I was already halfway across the room. Vals making dinner! he called after me.
Im not hungry. Actually, I was starving, but I had to get out of the house. I couldnt possibly suck down spaghetti like it was a regular Monday night. Not knowing that my entire family had been lying to me for who knows how long.
Kaylee, get back here! Uncle Brendon roared, following me through the front door onto the porch. Id rarely heard him raise his voice, and had never heard him yell like that.
I took off at a trot, slid into the passenger seat, then slammed the door and locked it.
Is that your uncle? Nash asked, right hand hovering over the gearshift. Maybe I should meet
Go! I shouted, louder than Id meant to. Ill introduce you later. Assuming I lived that long.
Nash slammed the car into Reverse and swerved backward out of the driveway, twisting in his seat to peer out the rear windshield. As we pulled away from the house, I took one last look at my uncle, who stared after us from the middle of the driveway, thick arms crossed over his chest. Behind him, Aunt Val stood on the porch holding a dishrag, her perfect mouth hanging open in surprise.
When we turned the corner, I let myself melt into the car seat, only then noticing how posh it was. Please tell me you didnt pick me up in a stolen car.
Nash laughed and glanced away from the road to smile at me, and my pulse sped up when our gazes met, in spite of the circumstances. Its Carters. Ive got it till midnight.
Why would Scott Carter let you take his car?
He shrugged. Hes a friend.
I just blinked at him. His questionable choice of companions aside, Emma was my best friend, and I would never let her take my car. And I didnt drive a brand-new Mustang convertible.
Nash grinned when I didnt seem convinced, and his next glance lingered longer than it should have, then roamed south of my face. He might be under the impression that youumneed some serious comfort.
My heart leaped into my throat, and I had to speak around it. And you think youre up for the challenge? Flirting should have felt weird, considering the day Id had. But instead, it made me feel alive, especially with the possibility of my own death hanging over me like a black cloud, casting its malignant shadow over my life. Over everything but Nash, and the way I felt when he looked at me. Touched me