by Jada Fisher
Finally, the family left, and I could practically see the happiness stretching out before them as they piled into their van. Good things were going to happen for them, and honestly, I believed they deserved it. But then they were gone and I was the only one who remained of the little drama that had played out.
“Hey,” Jamie murmured, leaning over the counter to whisper to me. “You’ve had a pretty rough day, why don’t you go home early, if you can afford it?”
“Thank you,” I whispered right back, relief flooding me.
Feeling at least five pairs of eyes on me, I slunk behind the counter and into the back of the house. My coworkers knew better than to comment further, continuing their work with their heads down. If there was one thing that everyone learned in the one year they’d had to work with me, it was that I did strange things that didn’t make sense and sometimes knew things I couldn’t possibly know.
Once I was safe in the breakroom again, I grabbed my bag and zoomed right out the back door. I didn’t know what was happening, or why I was having visions for the first time in two and a half years, but I knew that I wanted to get home and just hang out with Mickey while I drew.
3
Return of the Hotness
I wiped the counter for the third time, trying to find something to occupy myself with during what was essentially the last dead shift before the weekend ramp-up. Once that hit, I wouldn’t have a problem staying busy since we usually had a line out the door.
It was during one of these lapses that I decided to pull out our washing tray and give it a good wipe-down and sanitation. Usually that would wait until the end of the shift and we would pour boiling hot water from the steamer down it, but I wasn’t into standing still. I knew keeping my hands busy wouldn’t stop my mind from doing the strange things it liked to do, but…what was that phrase? Idle hands were the devil’s playground? Something like that.
“Um, I’d like a double-chocolate mochaccino with soy milk, no sugar, a double-shot of cream, steamed milk exactly at ninety-seven degrees, and flavored with the tears of the innocent.”
I looked up from where I was kneeling on the floor to see a familiar face above the counter. “I get paid minimum wage so I’ve got the tears. Don’t know about the innocent part, though.”
The girl snorted, her rounded face breaking into a grin. “Puh-lease, Davie. I’ve known you for what…three years now? If there’s anyone on this Earth who’s the perfect example of a goody two-shoes, it’s you.”
I slid the well back in place so I could focus on my friend. Mallory was a funny combination of extremes that always amused me. She was tiny, at least in height, and had this sort of adorable softness to her. Stuck somewhere between a doll and a teddy-bear, she had bright ringlets of copper, huge green eyes, and dimples in her cheeks. Of course, none of that seemed like an oxymoron until you added in that she was a near-professional MMA fighter, and was both stacked and jacked.
“Pfft, I don’t know about that, but you’re the customer.”
“And the customer is always right,” she finished with a snarky smile. “Isn’t that what they say?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you know. The usual?”
“The usual,” she affirmed, hopping on one of the stools and letting her thick, little legs dangle. In reality, I was the lucky one. Nobody else could get away with being as saucy with her as I was, at least not without a solid pop to the mouth.
“So, what are you doing out of the gym?” I asked as I made her favorite smoothie. “Last I knew, they had you on lockdown there.”
“Actually, the whole block around the gym is shut down right now.”
“What? Really? What happened?” Thoughts came to my mind of building explosions or buses flipping over.
“Some sort of all-out gang fight. Not very pretty. Police have nearly everything roped off from the public.”
I sighed. “Geez, that’s what…the third one this summer?”
“Fifth, actually.” Mallory spun around on her seat several times, her child-like actions making her words all the more depressing. “Something weird is going on with this city. It’s like you could cut the tension with a knife.”
“Huh,” I said noncommittally.
“Huh? What do you mean ‘huh’?”
I busied myself with finishing her drink, making sure to put extra wheatgrass shots in. “I don’t mean anything by it, that’s why I said ‘huh.’ ‘Huh’ doesn’t mean anything.”
“Hmmph, but it means something with you.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re not getting one of those weird things again, are you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure, you don’t. Just remember that if you get some bad, apocalyptic feelings, you better tell me about it. You owe me that much.”
“What, am I some sort of doomsday clock now?”
“Sure, I guess. Look, Davie, I know you like to pretend you’re some everyday schmuck, but you’re about as normal as I am.”
“I think being able to bench-press twice your own weight and take down opponents three times your size is a little different than accusing someone of being psychic.”
“Whoa, dude, I don’t think you’re psychic. I just think you have a really developed sense for danger. I mean, it makes sense, considering…” She cut herself off, but I already knew what she had been going to say. I decided that if she could have a little fun teasing me, then it was my turn to mess with her.
“Considering what?”
Her eyes flicked from my gloved hand back to my face. “Um, nothing. Forget I said anything. Like at all. Did I mention you make the best smoothies? Totally delicious.”
I held her passion fruit and peach dream with extra iron boost and wheatgrass in my hand. “I haven’t given it to you yet.”
“Right, uh. Well, I guess I’ll just pay for that now.”
I opened my mouth, totally ready to keep harping on her. Actually, most of our friendship seemed to be based on good-natured teasing. Maybe it was because she hated people babying her and I hated people pitying me. Either way, it was a good fit that probably wouldn’t work with anyone else.
But before I could get out a single zinger, the bell at the door chimed and I looked over.
“Welcome to the Beanery!” I chirped before realizing exactly who had walked in.
My stomach dropped and my world went all funny again. It was the guy. The guy. The white-haired one that made my cheeks flush and reality go squiggly.
“What are you lookin’ at?” Mallory asked, taking her drink from me then turning to look at the entrance. “Oh,” she whispered, whipping back around. “They’re pretty.”
“Shut up,” I hissed, desperately looking around to see if there was anyone around me to take over. But since it was such a dead time, I was only working with one other coworker and she was on break. So, I had nowhere to run to as they approached the counter.
They seemed to walk toward me in slow motion and I felt alternating rushes of hot and cold. I couldn’t say why I was reacting so badly. I mean sure, they were absolutely gorgeous, but I wasn’t really the type to get flustered beyond really wanting to draw someone.
No, it wasn’t attraction. It was kind of like… They had this energy around them. Or potential energy, rather. Like if I got too close, there would be this cataclysm of possibilities and I would be swept off my feet by the deluge.
But eventually, they reached the counter with a distinct lack of world-ending combustion. Mallory stayed on her stool, but rotated so she was staring straight at them with one eyebrow raised. She was both confident and good enough at flirting to pull that off. The only issue was that under her baggy gym clothes, one could easily mistake her four-ten frame as belonging to a chunky prepubescent kid.
“Hello,” the white-haired man murmured, bowing his head respectfully to me. He seemed to have a kind of accent, but one that I couldn’t place because it was so subtle. It just barely lingered on the
end of his words, dipping in and out of his low tone.
“Hello,” I said back, pasting a customer service smile across my face. “How can I help you?”
“One of your largest coffees, black, and the California Panini.”
“Is that for here or to go?”
“Here, please,” he continued with a smile. The way his eyes leveled at me, it felt like they were looking through my very being. It was hard to keep my mind straight, but I did my best. “We’ve been here before and we…” He paused as if looking for the right words. “…enjoyed the ambiance.”
Was he referencing the little snafu I had with the couple? I felt like he was and my cheeks colored slightly.
“And you?” I asked, looking behind him to his companions.
One opened his mouth to speak, but it was the white-haired one who spoke again. “He will take an iced coffee with hazelnut and a roast beef sandwich, and he will take one of your iced green teas and a turkey, bacon, and avocado panini.”
If the others were offended by his taking over, they didn’t let it show. If anything, they seemed a little relieved that they didn’t have to speak to me at all.
“Your total will be twenty-four dollars and seventy-seven cents. Credit or debit?” I asked automatically. I was pleased that I was able to maintain such a sense of calm and normalcy, considering my heart was pounding at a hundred miles a minute.
“Credit,” he answered, still smiling graciously as he produced a black, plastic rectangle.
Normally, I didn’t give two flying flips about what kind of affluence my patrons had, but I couldn’t help but notice that it was one of those fancy, super elite platinum cards that everyone always bragged about having when they really didn’t. I’d never seen one in person, just in videos online, debating whether so and so was lying or not.
So, the boy was from money, probably old money. I didn’t know why, but that seemed important.
“If you want to take a seat, I’ll have that to you in just a bit.”
“I don’t mind waiting up here. Good to stretch the legs, you know?”
I don’t know what kind of look I had on my face, but it was enough for Mallory to cut in.
“Actually, I was discussing how these drinks could lessen the effects of a bad menstrual cycle, so a little privacy would be nice.” My eyes went wide at her frankness, but at the same time, I appreciated it immensely.
But instead of being flustered, the man just nodded politely again. “I see. Sounds like a very in-depth conversation. I would hate to interrupt it. We’ll go find ourselves a seat then.”
“Thank you! I’ll have that right out to you.”
The group strode to a table in the corner, about as far away as they could possibly be considering the size of our café. I was grateful they hadn’t taken one of the tables adjacent to the counter, and I quickly got on with their meals.
“Dude,” Mallory said, leaning over the counter with the help of the stool she was on. “He’s polite and he didn’t freak out about periods. I can’t stand when idiots get all grossed out like it’s the plague. I don’t know about you, but that’s a pretty good sign to me.”
“Sign of what?” I hissed, cutting up avocados and putting bacon into our mini-broiler.
“That he might be a good catch, duh!”
“Who said I wanted to catch him? You catch colds, or errant baseballs at a stadium. Not men.”
“Uh-huh. That’s not what’s written all over your face.” She seemed to have a moment of realization and her eyes brightened. “Unless you’re getting one of those feelings about him.”
I looked her dead in the eye while I poured a scoop of ice in our blender.
“I have no idea what you mean,” I said flatly before turning it on.
“Come on, Davie. You—”
“Huh? What did you say?” I interrupted. “Sorry, this is really loud.”
“I know you can hear—”
I turned it from low to high and she finally gave up. Good. The last thing I needed to talk about right then was my psychosis. Clearly, I just needed to visit the doctor and get an adjustment to my medication.
She stayed quiet the rest of the time I spent prepping the trio’s order, but I could feel her watching me. And when I was brave enough to let my gaze flick to the back, I saw that their eyes were on me too. While I wasn’t opposed to being the center of attention, I preferred when it was on my own terms. Like a stage, or an art exhibit.
After nearly seven minutes, everything was done and I plated it. Grabbing one of our circular trays, I loaded up all the items, took a deep breath, and marched over to the three. I barely heard Mallory whispering ‘good luck’ to me as I passed, but all I could do was give her a brief nod.
“That was quite fast,” the white-haired one remarked, smiling crookedly at me.
Goodness, that wasn’t fair at all. It didn’t seem possible, but his already stunning features grew even more charming and I didn’t know if I wanted to kiss him or punch him for it.
Probably the latter. In my opinion, kissing was a gross mix of stale air and someone else’s saliva and I wasn’t really down for it.
“Well, you’re the only order I had in, so it was no trouble.” I set their plates down one by one and each one issued a ‘thank you’ when their food was in front of them. They were definitely the politest group I’d served in ages, so I didn’t know why they made me so nervous.
“That’s good. I would hate to think we were indeed trouble.” There was that accent again. What was it?
I realized I had let too much time go by to say something else, so I just gave a nervous little laugh and handed out the drinks quietly.
“Isn’t it a little warm for gloves?” the tallest of them asked.
“What? Oh.” I met his gaze, which was locked on the dark glove tucked into my sleeve. I didn’t know how he noticed it, as it was the arm holding up the tray, but I guessed he just had keen eyes. “Just a fashion statement,” I said quickly. “I’m all about that asymmetry, you know.”
“No. I don’t,” he said flatly before taking a long drink from his iced coffee.
“Alright then…” I had done it. I was on my last drink. Eager to get it over with, I handed it to the white-haired man.
I saw what was going to happen before it happened, but it was too late. His hand reached toward the drink before I could set it on the table and for just a split-second, his skin touched mine.
The moment it happened, the world shattered around me and I fell into nothingness.
4
For My Eyes Only
Colors swirled around me, winding in and out of each other before taking shape in an image I might recognize. But even when they began to align, it still took me several minutes to make out the ground rushing far below me.
It was a beautiful, thick forest, full of vibrant greens and browns. The smell of it was incredible, and I could feel myself reacting to the drafts of clean air and pine.
The sound of a bird’s caw drew my attention upward and I saw nothing but clear skies and perfectly formed clouds dotting the blue expanse.
I would have been amazed if I wasn’t so terrified over being yanked into a vision against my will. This was too much, too soon. I had just sort of reclaimed my life by deciding not to go to college and I didn’t want it to be taken over by the strange, inconvenient, and impossible things my mind liked to do.
Before I could get back to the real world, the scene shifted again. I was standing in some sort of field, just as beautiful as the last scene, but I wasn’t alone. There were…shapes all around the edge, but they were cloaked in shadow. Any time I tried to look at them, my vision would grow fuzzy or slide sideways.
They were cheering, but the words coming out of their mouths weren’t English. In fact, they weren’t any sort of language I recognized at all, and I was pretty good at spotting most of the romance languages, as well as Japanese and Korean. Far too much time spent watching shows with subtitles while I drew.
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My musings were interrupted as something slammed into my jaw. I tumbled to the ground to see a man standing above me, albeit a man with a shadow that was nearly a story high and laden with enough spikes to look like a monster.
“Give up?” he taunted, malevolence in his lavender eyes.
“Why would I do that?” The words came out of my mouth, but they were not my own voice. It was the white-haired man’s, I was sure of it.
Suddenly, I was standing and lunging at the man, tackling him right around the waist. We slammed into the ground, and that sent me hurtling back toward reality.
I came around to the sound of clattering as the tray I was holding hit the floor. I stood there, breathing hard, trying to reconnect with the world that I had lost hold of.
But I didn’t have much time to center myself, because the white-haired man jumped to his feet, gripping my hand with an insane amount of strength.
“You saw something, didn’t you?” he asked, his gaze entirely too intense for me. “I knew it!”
“Let me go!” I said, yanking my arm away. He let go without protest but moved around the table and approached me.
Panic swamped me and for a moment, I didn’t know what to do. Things didn’t go well when people found out I did strange things, and I didn’t like how this man had already jumped to a supernatural conclusion. Who was he? And why was he staring at me like that?
It was too much, so I did the only thing I could: turned tail and ran right out the door.
I had already done that one time this week, but the difference now was that I could hear the man follow me, his footsteps surprisingly heavy on the pavement for how quickly he was catching up.
“Wait!” he called, growing ever nearer. “I just want to talk!”
I didn’t, however, and that was the crux of the whole matter. I could feel danger and possibilities rolling off of him in waves and I wanted absolutely nothing to do with it!
