How could he be so sure? I should have at least told her.
No! His harsh tone startled us both, and when he reached out to grab my arms, I took a step back. Nash let his head dip and held his hands out to show that he wouldnt touch me, then shoved them in his pockets. She wouldnt have believed you. And, anyway, its dangerous to mess with stuff you dont understand, and you dont understand this yet. Swear that if this happens again and Im not there, you wont do anything. Or say anything. Just turn around and walk away. Okay?
Okay, I agreed. He was starting to scare me, his eyes wide and earnest, the line of his beautiful mouth tight and thin.
Swear, Nash insisted, irises flashing and whirling fiercely in the bright sunlight. You have to swear.
I swear. And I meant it, because in that moment, with the sun painting his face in a harsh relief of light and shadow, Nash looked both scared and scary.
But even worse, he looked like he knew exactly what he was talking about.
CHAPTER 4
Nash took me home two hours before I had to be at work, and when I walked through the door, the scent of freesia gave me an instant headache. Sophie was home.
My cousin stood from the couch, where shed obviously been peeking through the curtains, and propped thin, manicured hands on the hipbones poking out above low-cut, skinny jeans. Who was that? she asked, though her narrowed eyes said she already had a suspect in mind.
I smiled sweetly and walked past her into the hall. A guy.
And his name would be? She followed me into my room, where she sat on my unmade bed as if it were hers. Or as if we were friends. Sophie only played that game when she wanted something from me, usually money or a ride. This time, she was obviously hunting information. Gossip to fuel the rumor bonfire she and her friends kept burning bright at school.
But I wasnt about to fan her flames.
I turned my back on her to empty my pockets onto my dresser. None of your business. In the mirror, I saw a scowl flit across her face, pulling her pixie features out of shape.
The problem with getting everything you want in life is that youre not prepared for disappointment when it comes.
I considered it my pleasure to acquaint Sophie with that concept.
Mom said hes a senior. She pulled her legs onto my bed and crossed them beneath her, shoes and all. When I didnt answer, she glared at my reflection. I can find out who he is in, like, two seconds.
Then you obviously need nothing from me. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail. Welcome to the party, Nancy Drew.
Tiny lines formed around her mouth when she frowned, and I crossed the room to pull my uniform shirt from a hanger, leaving it swinging on the closet rod. Out. I have to go to work. So I can pay for my car insurance. Sophie wouldnt be eligible for her license for another five months, and it drove her nuts that I could drive and she couldnt.
My car was the best thing my father had ever given me, even if it was used. And even if hed never actually seen it.
Speaking of cars, your mystery dates looked familiar. Little silver Saab, with leather upholstery, right? Sophie stood, ambling toward the door slowly, narrow hips swaying, cocking her head as if in thought. The backseats pretty comfortable, even with that little rip on the passenger side.
Pain shot through my jaw, and I realized I was grinding my teeth.
Say hi to Nash for me, she purred, one hand wrapped around my door. Then her expression morphed from vicious vixen to Good Samaritan, in the space of a single second. Im not trying to hurt your feelings here, Kaylee, but I think you should know the truth. Her pale green eyes went wide in faux innocence. Hes using you to get to me.
My temper flared and I slammed the door. Sophie yelped and jerked her hand out of the way just in time to avoid four broken fingers. My fist clenched my uniform shirt, and I tossed it over the dancers-butt dent shed left in my comforter.
Shes wrong. But I studied my reflection anyway, trying to see myself as everyone else did. As Nash did. No, I didnt have Sophies lean dancers build, or Emmas abundant curves, but I wasnt hideous. Still, Nash could do much better than not-hideous.
Was that why he hadnt kissed me? Was I a convenience between girlfriends? Or a pity date? Some kind of social out-reach program for kindhearted jocks?
No. He wouldnt spend so much time talking to someone he had no real interest in, even if he was looking for a casual hookup. There were easier scores elsewhere.
But I could use a qualified second opinion. Phone in hand, I plopped down on the bed and held my breath while I typed, hoping Emmas mom had given her back her phone.
No such luck. Two very long minutes after I sent the text messageCan u talk? the reply came.
She is still grounded. Talk to Emma at work.
She should never have taught her mother to text. I told her no good could come of that.
Em and I were scheduled for the same shift, so that afternoon I filled her in on my date with Nash as we sold tickets to the latest computer-animated cartoon and the inevitable romantic comedy. On our dinner break, we sat in one corner of the snack bar, sharing a soft pretzel and cheese fries while I told her about Heidi Andersonwhat she hadnt heard from her sisterwhere no one could overhear.
Emma was fascinated by the accuracy of my prediction, and she agreed with Nash that I should tell my aunt and uncle, though her motive had more to do with shooting them a big I-told-you-so than with helping me figure out what to do with my morbid talent.
But again, I declined the advice. I had no interest in any future meetings with Dr. Nelsonhe of the medical restraints and the zombie pills. In fact, I was clinging to the hope that the next predictionif there was anotherwould be months, or even years down the road. After all, there had been nearly nine months between the past two.
The last part of my shift dragged on at half the normal speed because less than fifteen minutes in, the manager moved Emma to the snack bar, leaving me alone in the ticket booth with an A&M computer science major whose undershirtwhich he lifted his uniform to show meread: My other shirt is a storm trooper uniform.
When the day was finally over, I clocked out and waited for Emma in the employee snack room. As I was zipping my jacket, Emma pushed through the door and stood with her body holding it open, a dark frown shadowing her entire face.
Whats wrong? My hand hovered over the hook where her jacket still hung.
Come on. You have to hear this. She pushed the door open wider and stood to the side, so I could pass through. But I hesitated. Her news obviously wasnt good, and I was all full up on creepy and depressing for the moment. Seriously. This is weird.
I sighed, then shoved my hands into my jacket pockets and followed her over eight feet of sticky linoleum tile and across the theater lobby toward the snack counter.
Jimmy Barnes was busy with a customer, but once he saw Emma waiting to talk to him, he rushed through the order so quickly he almost forgot to squirt butter on the popcorn. He had a bit of a crush on Emma.
He wasnt the only one.
Back already? Jimmy nodded at me, then leaned with both plump arms on the glass countertop, staring at Em as if the meaning of life lay buried in her eyes. His fingers were stained yellow with butter-flavored oil and he smelled like popcorn and the root beer hed dribbled down the front of his black apron.
Can you tell Kaylee what Mike said?
Jimmys goofy, puppy-love smile faded, and he stood, angling his body to face us both. Creepiest thing I ever heard. He reached below the counter to grab a plastic-wrapped stack of sixteen-ounce paper cups, and began refilling the dispenser as he spoke.
You know Mike Powell, right? he asked.
Yeah. I glanced at Emma with both brows raised in question, but she only nodded toward Jimmy, silently telling me to pay attention.
Jimmy pressed on an inverted stack of cups, which sank into a hole in the countertop to make room for more. Mike took a shift at the snack bar at the Arlington branch today, filling in for some guy who got fired for spittin in someones Coke.
Hey, can I get some popcorn over here?
I looked up to see a middle-aged man waiting in front of the cash register, flanked by a little girl with her thumb in her mouth and an older boy with his gazeand his thumbsglued to a PSP.
Will that be a jumbo, sir? Jimmy held up one just-a-minute finger for us and veered toward the closest of several popcorn machines while I dug my phone from my pocket to check the time. It was after nine and I was starving. And not exactly eager for whatever weird, creepy story Jimmy had to tell.
When the customers left with a cardboard tray full of junk food and soda, Jimmy turned back to us. Anyway, Mike called about half an hour ago, totally freaked out. He said some girl died right in front of his register this afternoon. Just fell over dead, still holding her popcorn.
Shock pinged through me, chilling me from the inside out. I glanced at Emma, and she gave me a single grim nod. As I turned back to Jimmy, a dark unease unfurled deep inside me, spiraling up my spine like tendrils of ice. Youre serious?
Totally. He twisted the end of the plastic sleeve around the remaining cups. Mike said the whole thing was unreal. The ambulance took her away in a freakin body bag, and the manager closed the place down and handed out vouchers to all the customers. And the cops kept asking Mike questions, trying to figure out what happened.
Totally. He twisted the end of the plastic sleeve around the remaining cups. Mike said the whole thing was unreal. The ambulance took her away in a freakin body bag, and the manager closed the place down and handed out vouchers to all the customers. And the cops kept asking Mike questions, trying to figure out what happened.
Emma watched me for my reaction, but I could only stare, my hands gripping the edge of the counter, unable to force my scattered thoughts into any logical order. The similarity to Heidi Anderson was obvious, but I had no concrete reason to connect the two deaths.
Do they know how she died? I asked finally, grasping at the first coherent thought to form.
Jimmy shrugged. Mike said she was fine one minute, and flat on her back the next. No coughing, no choking, no grabbing her heart or her head.