by Sophie Davis
What I saw instead made my head spin, and excitement replaced the adrenaline pumping in my veins. My heart felt like it might burst when his gaze met mine. Standing on the top row of bleachers wearing a blue hoodie, hands shoved into his jeans pockets, was Kannon. The way my body responded to him came as more of a shock than when he had touched me. Even with his hair dripping water down his cheeks and his tee shirt clinging to him, I’d been unable to tear my eyes away from him at the lake. But now, that feeling of being physically pulled towards him was so intense I could barely breathe.
Time stood still. My teammates ceased moving around me. The cheers from the home bench and the bleachers no longer reached my ears. My peripheral vision grew hazy; only Kannon stood in sharp focus. The urge to run from the field, vault the fence that separated the bleachers from the track, and throw my arms around his neck overwhelmed me. Then my father’s warning sounded in my mind: Trust your instincts. The only problem was that my instincts were divided. His connection to Jamieson Wentworth aside, something about Kannon bothered me. Scared me, even. Yet, that fact wasn’t enough to dampen my fascination with him.
“Eel?” Devon snapped her fingers before my eyes.
“Hmmm?” I responded, distracted.
“You okay?” Devon thrust her face in front of mine, breaking the invisible thread tethering my gaze to Kannon.
The stands weren’t full, so it was easy for Devon to locate the source of my agitation. “Who is that?” she asked, squinting to see better. “Is that the kid from the lake?”
“Yeah, Kannon,” I said absently. A nagging sensation was tugging on my memory. There was something familiar about all of this: Kannon in his hoodie, the bleachers, me standing on the field.
“Kannon? I thought you didn’t know his name.”
Oops. I wasn’t sure why, but I hadn’t told Devon about Kannon’s phone call or the text messages we’d exchanged. The way her eyes scrunched and the skin around her mouth went taut made my insides squirm guiltily. Devon and I shared everything, and this omission was big for me.
“I’ll explain later,” I mumbled, and started towards where our teammates were huddling around Coach Peters. I was lost in thought, my mind back at Caswell Lake with Kannon. The now all-too-familiar fog settled around me, but not in time for me to understand what was about to happen. She hit me hard on the shoulder and I fell to the ground, landing on my butt.
“Pay attention to where you are going, Captain,” Jamieson Wentworth sneered, glaring down at me.
Chapter Seven
“She’s such a bitch,” Devon muttered, grabbing my arm and helping me to my feet.
I nodded in agreement, not only because, well, Jamieson was a bitch, but also because I couldn’t speak. The instant we collided, I recognized her piercing eyes glowering down at me. I’d known the words that were going to come out of her mouth. And this time I knew why.
My dreams. I had dreamt the literal run-in with Jamieson. That was also why seeing Kannon in the stands gave me the feeling of déjà vu. The dream about Jamieson had started with me seeing him in that same hoodie watching the game from the bleachers. Nausea swept over me and I swallowed the urge to be sick.
As Devon dragged me towards our teammates, I glanced over my shoulder. Please don’t be on the track, I prayed. But he was. Kannon, with his blue hood pulled over his hair, was heading for the stadium exit. He took two more steps before turning. The distance between us made it impossible to make out the green of his irises or the strong line of his jaw, but there was no doubt it was Kannon.
“I’ll see you soon,” I muttered under my breath and imagined Kannon saying the words in my head. I knew they were true. I would see him again soon.
My mind was a jumble of disjunctive thoughts and feelings. Relief warred with anxiety. Elation battled dread. Certainty mingled with indecision. I finally knew where the visions were coming from, but that knowledge was hard to swallow. The object of my unhealthy infatuation had turned up at my game, bringing with him a sense of impending doom. We, Kannon and I, were destined to meet again; whether that was good or bad, I couldn’t decide.
“Nice goal, Andrews,” Coach Peters said, clapping me on the back as Devon and I joined the huddle. “Alright, let’s finish strong. We have two minutes - let’s get one more!” Coach hollered.
I didn’t care about scoring or winning or lacrosse in general. My whole life I had been taught that there is a logical explanation for everything in the world. My mother didn’t believe in the supernatural or ghosts or anything that science could not explain. Dad was the whimsical one. He believed in the afterlife, alien life forms, and all things paranormal. As a professor of history, he argued there were too many inexplicable events throughout time for us to truly believe we humans were the only ones inhabiting the earth, or the galaxy for that matter.
Prior to the last week, I’d sort of sided with my mother. I liked things uncomplicated, black and white. Now I wasn’t so sure. Whatever was happening to me, science could not explain it.
The last two minutes of the game flew by. We didn’t score again, but neither did St. Mary’s. When the final whistle blew, I led my team in the requisite cheer for our opponents and then stood just behind Coach Peters in the handshaking line. After all the “good games” were exchanged, I gave the captain for Mt. St. Mary’s directions to Elizabeth’s house for the after-party.
On the way home from the game, I checked my cell and noticed three messages, all from my mother. The first was an apology for having to work late, again. The second was an order to call her the minute I got the message. And the third was a reiteration of the second. I punched one on my speed dial and waited for her to answer.
“Evelyn Andrews.”
“Hey, Mom,” I said.
“How was school?”
I shrugged even though she couldn’t see me. “Fine.”
“That’s nice,” Mom said, clearly distracted. She made no mention of the game. “What are you girls doing now?”
“Heading home to change and then going to Elizabeth’s.” I crossed my fingers, hoping she wouldn’t tell me that I had to go home instead.
“That is fine. I will be home late, so call me at the office periodically.”
I wanted to remind her that I was eighteen and all these rules and regulations were getting old. I didn’t, though. Despite everything, I knew my mother loved me and cared about me and just wanted to protect me. The checking-in wasn’t so bad, and she rarely said no to any request I made so long as she knew where I’d be and with whom.
“Will do,” I told her before saying goodbye.
“She working late?” Devon asked after I’d hung up.
“Yeah. Want to pick up First Wok and get ready at my house?” I didn’t want to be alone tonight. The visions were bothering me more than I wanted to admit. Left to my own devices, I would concoct a list of crazy theories and ridiculous possibilities for what was wrong with me. With Devon around, I could gossip and try on a million different outfits and pretend like everything was normal. Just another Friday night in Westwood.
“I’m so ready for tonight,” Devon declared an hour later, licking duck sauce off her index finger. We were sitting on my bed, gorging ourselves on shrimp fried rice and wonton soup.
“Me too,” I agreed, patting the food baby protruding from my normally flat stomach. “I’m going to need to wear something loose,” I added, when I realized the size of my stuffed belly made it look as if I were having twins.
Devon laughed. “No way. There are going to be a ton of hot St. Paul’s boys there. You are dressing to impress.”
St. Paul’s was Mt. St. Mary’s brother school. They always crashed our annual party. While most of the boys that attended the elite private school were as snobby and stuck-up as their female counterparts, they were a welcome change of scenery from my male classmates.
“Shower so we can go. I promised Elizabeth we’d be there early,” Devon said, throwing a pillow at my head. “And thanks to your
inability to say no to anyone, we still have to drive to Timbuktu and pick up Mandy.”
“Uggg, fine.” I rolled my body over the side of the bed since sitting up seemed like an uncomfortable option. There was no reason to respond to her dig on Mandy. Devon wasn’t a fan and I knew that. But she had finally reached a point where she tolerated the other girl, which was probably the best it was going to get.
“I’m going to use the guest bathroom,” Devon called as I retreated into the one adjoining my bedroom.
“I hope so,” I called over my shoulder. “You smell.”
Despite my argument to the contrary, Devon insisted I wear a barely-covering-my-butt royal blue dress from BCBG. At least it was loose on my tummy. But the hemline only skimmed the halfway point between my hip and my knee, and the neckline plunged into dangerously low territory. To complete the look, Devon draped a gold necklace with an enormous glass bead surrounded by a spider web of gold, holding it in place over my head.
“Since we never got a chance to look for your other one,” she said.
This dream catcher, like the one I’d lost at the lake, had been a present from my father. The bauble that matched my dress nestled itself in the point of the neckline’s V, drawing even more attention to my most notable attribute.
My friends all coveted my natural endowment. I didn’t understand their jealousy. Whenever I showed off the girls, I felt trampy, and over the years more than one of my friends’ fathers had stared a little too long and a little too hard at my chest.
Devon wore black leather leggings with a skintight tube top. As usual, she looked gorgeous; and I hoped that maybe she’d meet a nice boy from St. Paul’s who would have her saying, “Rick who?”
“You look hot,” Devon assured me, when I kept pulling down the visor on the passenger side of the Chevy to check my reflection.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re my best friend. I think that makes you contractually obligated to tell me I look good no matter what,” I pointed out.
“No,” she replied, tearing her focus from the darkened road, “boyfriends are contractually obligated to lie to you. Best friends are required to tell you the truth, even if it’s painful.”
She had a point. Devon was brutally honest when the occasion called for it, and even when it didn’t.
Devon turned on her right blinker when we approached Mandy’s driveway, although there really wasn’t much of a point. Mandy’s was the only house on the country road. Gravel crunched beneath the Cavalier’s tires as we made the mile trek to Mandy’s front door. Once the house materialized in the darkness, Devon laid on her horn; the blast sounded unnaturally loud in the silent country setting.
Mandy emerged from the farmhouse seconds later. Tonight she was wearing too-tight faded jeans and a whimsical top in various shades of green. The shirt would have been cute on somebody like Devon, but it hugged Mandy in all the wrong places. I thought maybe a shopping trip was in order.
Devon gave me a pointed look when she noticed Mandy’s ensemble. She had been against making the trip to the boonies to get Mandy in the first place, but I had insisted. Without us she would have no ride. When I voiced the concern to Devon, she’d been unsympathetic to Mandy’s plight. She’d finally relented in exchange for an all-expenses-paid breakfast the following morning.
“Maybe we should’ve suggested she get ready at my house,” I said.
“Yeah, that, or we could have not invited her,” Devon grumbled just as Mandy grabbed the door handle.
“Hey, guys!” Mandy greeted us as she clamored ungracefully into the back seat.
“Hey, Mandy.” I twisted in my seat to give her a welcoming smile.
Devon responded with a very unladylike grunt. I pinched the arm of hers that was closest to me and shot her a “be nice” look.
“So, Dev, are Rick and Kevin coming?” Mandy asked as Devon sped down the gravel drive.
“Um, Rick is.”
“Oh…but not Kevin?” Mandy asked again, disappointed.
“No clue. I’m not Kevin’s keeper,” Devon shot back.
“Devon,” I groaned, pitching my voice in the hope Mandy wouldn’t hear.
“I gave him my number, but he hasn’t called,” Mandy confided.
“And he’s not going to,” Devon muttered under her breath.
I silently urged her with my eyes to be civil, but doubted she noticed in the absence of streetlights. Devon was right, though; Kevin wouldn’t call. He hadn’t even bragged about his conquest at school, a clear indication he wasn’t proud of hooking up with Mandy.
“I’m sure he’ll be there,” I assured Mandy.
Actually, I knew he would be; he’d made a point to tell me so in the hallway between third and fourth periods.
“Oh, good!” Mandy squealed, now digging in her purse to search for a compact.
The excitement over a boy who had no interest in her tugged at my heartstrings. Maybe Devon’s brand of honesty was better in this situation. At least it would save Mandy from public humiliation when Kevin ignored her.
When we pulled through Elizabeth’s front gates twenty minutes later, the yard was already littered with cars.
“Great. We’re late,” Devon mumbled, unbuckling her seat belt.
“The alcohol isn’t going anywhere,” I replied.
Late was an exaggeration, but the party was in full swing when we walked in. The Mt. St. Mary’s girls, in varying states of inebriation, milled through Elizabeth’s hallways. Many of our teammates were already there as well and taking full advantage of the chance to mingle with the St. Paul’s boys.
“Drinks?” Devon asked. Without waiting for my reply, she grabbed my hand and began dragging me through a gaggle of baseball players toward the back deck.
I hastily reached for Mandy, seizing a fistful of her shirt and tugging her along for the ride.
The moment we stepped onto the deck, I caught sight of Elizabeth by the tiki bar. She was in full-on prowl mode, tossing her blonde locks over one shoulder and giggling loudly at whatever her current companion was saying. Her hand rested possessively on his bicep when she inclined her head closer to hear his story better. Whatever he said must have been hilarious because she threw her head and roared with laughter, giving him a nice view of her Victoria’s Secret enhanced cleavage.
The current object of Elizabeth’s affection was tall, a full head taller than she was, and the lean muscles of his back and shoulders were evident through his green-and-white striped oxford. The sleeves of his shirt were pushed up to expose defined forearms that flexed when he moved. Light from the tiki torches danced across his face, magnifying the natural highlights in his messy chestnut hair. Large green eyes reflected two mirror images of the flames.
And so we meet again, I thought. As per usual, the sight of Kannon invoked a juxtaposition of sensations. The excitement of laying eyes on the boy I couldn’t vanquish from my thoughts matched the tightly wound coil of apprehension in my gut.
“Eel!” Elizabeth exclaimed when she saw our trio. “Look who I found!” She gently pushed Kannon forward.
Devon still had a firm grip on my hand. I stopped dead in my tracks as if the deck had turned to quicksand, causing Devon to come to an abrupt halt.
“Kannon, you remember―” Elizabeth started to say.
“Endora Lee,” he cut her off. The way he said my name, lingering on each syllable as if savoring the taste of it on his tongue, gave me goosebumps. “Or is it Eel?” he asked, his lips quirking into a lopsided smirk.
“Endora, actually,” I said stiffly and marveled at my ability to string words together. “Only my friends call me Eel,” I added for good measure.
“Understood.”
“And this is Devon.” Elizabeth pointed to my best friend whose expression remained flat.
In my haste to follow Devon and my shock at seeing Kannon with Elizabeth, I lost my hold on Mandy. I looked around for her ― anything to avoid Kannon’s amused gaze ― but she’d been swallowed by the crowd.
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“Hey, again,” Kannon said to Devon.
Devon nodded her hello, still assessing the boy. She gave him a once-over, and I could practically hear the gears grinding in her head. “Lucky you were there the other night,” she said finally. “Otherwise, who knows what would have happened to Eel.” Her tone was all innocence and false gratitude.
She didn’t trust him, I realized. Did Devon get the same uneasy feeling that I did around him? Clearly Elizabeth didn’t - she was staring up at him with big doe eyes and hanging on his every word.
Kannon’s entire face flushed to match the flames of the nearby torch. “I’m glad I was.” His sentiments sounded genuine. “The lake is dangerous at night.”
That spine-tingling sensation came over me as Kannon’s mood went from amused to somber. Maybe I was reading too much into his words, but they felt ominous.
“Aren’t you going to thank him, Eel?” Elizabeth purred.
“She already did,” Kannon said quickly. “And really, it wasn’t a big deal. I saw her jump, and when she didn’t come up, I figured I should go check on her. I barely did anything, though. Endora would have made it to the surface without my help.”
I narrowed my gaze. Why was he lying? We both knew I would have drowned had he not been there. If the lake creature hadn’t succeeded in strangling me, then the blow to my head would have done it. I caught myself. There I went again, giving credence to something that had been nothing more than my imagination.
“Don’t be so modest,” Elizabeth cooed. “You saved her life.”
“What were you doing out at the lake alone anyhow?” Devon asked. To anyone who didn’t know her, the question sounded conversational. I, however, knew her well. And her inquiry was more of an accusation than a question.
“I thought we were getting drinks,” I said, before Kannon had the chance to respond to Devon’s interrogation. He shot me a grateful smile, which prompted me to scowl in reply.
