Brandon walked over and my breath caught, and it had nothing to do with his chiseled abdomen. His expiration date had changed and I let out the breath I’d been holding.
He had 6 days, 12 hours, 54 minutes, and 37 seconds to live.
***
“Well, you still interested?” Amber caroled, her gaze knowing as she caught up with me in the parking lot after school.
“Yeah,” I muttered grudgingly, accepting I didn’t have much choice if I wanted to try and save him.
“Those abs, right?” She shivered and gave me a wink. “We have our work cut out for us, but I think its totally doable. But I’m thinking we might want to hold off on making a move just yet.” I glanced at her, hearing what she didn’t say. “Let’s just say, on the completely off chance he doesn’t go for you, it might be better if it didn’t happen at school.”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” I said dismissively, crossing my arms over my chest. “What’s your plan?” I asked, because I knew she had one. Amber might come off as flighty but she knew exactly how to get what she wanted and detailed every step along the way.
“There’s a party,” she mentioned, scrutinizing me and I stopped the instinctive protest that rose in my throat. “To celebrate our win over the Wildcats.”
My forehead furrowed. “We haven’t beat them yet,” I reminded her, not completely clueless when it came to our football team. “That’s who we’re playing.”
Amber waved her hand. “It’s a guaranteed win.” She smiled and lowered her voice, “And the perfect opportunity to talk to Brandon.”
“How is that any better than talking to him at school?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow.
She shook her hair back and smiled kindly. “He’ll be drunk.”
***
My fingers slipped on the car’s door handle and I rubbed my sweat dampened palms against the denim of my jeans. The brick house loomed in front of me and once again I questioned what I was doing here.
Someone tapped on the passenger window, causing me to jump, and I saw it was Houston’s mom, Miranda. I waved at her weakly, pushing the car door open as she stood there waiting. “How are you, Hope?” Her smile was open and I knew Houston hadn’t said anything to her about my omissions concerning the pep rally.
“I’m good,” I answered brightly. “Is Houston home?” I held up a folder. “I brought his assignments from today.”
“Oh, how sweet.” She gestured for me to follow her. “He’s inside.”
I clutched the folder with his assignments to my chest, my excuse as to why I’d stopped by. I did want to see Houston, but I needed to talk to Joy. The rest of the family didn’t know about our connection so I couldn’t just stop by and say I wanted to talk to Joy, not when she was supposed to be autistic.
“We received some bad news late yesterday which is why Houston didn’t go to school today,” Miranda explained, opening the front door. “His grandfather, Todd’s father, was diagnosed with terminal cancer.” Her mouth drew in as she added, “He doesn’t have long.”
I swallowed, my gaze darting around as I hoped I didn’t run into the dying grandfather. “He went to visit him?” I asked, licking my lips and she turned to me, shaking her head.
“Oh, no. They went to get him. He’s going to stay with us until –” She didn’t finish, getting choked up and I cursed my stupid luck.
“I’m so sorry,” I replied, trying to fill the sudden gulf of silence. “At least he’ll be with family,” I encouraged and she nodded, her eyes glistening as she gave me a hopeful smile.
“I’ll go get him,” she said and I almost panicked, thinking she was going to bring out the dying grandfather. “I’m sure he’ll want to see you and say thank you.” I held in my relief when I realized she meant Houston. She walked out, leaving me by the stairs and I glanced up them, wondering if Joy was up there. I edged closer, wondering if I had time to run up and get her attention.
The clicking of shoes on the wooden floors told me no, and I did the next best thing. “Joy,” I hissed loudly, hovering by the stairs. “JOY,” I whisper shouted and Houston came around the corner, his stare telling me he’d heard me. “Oh, joy!” I cried, holding up the assignment folder. “I have your homework.”
His brow crinkled and he didn’t look like he believed me, but he took the folder, muttering, “Thanks.”
Soft steps sounded behind me and I chanced a glance up the stairs to see Joy suspended on the top step, waiting for the chance to come down. I stepped away from the staircase and closer to Houston and he edged back. Pain pierced through me, but I nodded, murmuring, “I deserved that.”
He glanced away, his face saying he regretted the move. “Hope, it’s a bad time.”
“Your mom told me about your grandfather,” I answered, holding out my hand as I begged him to give me a second. “I’m sorry. About your grandfather and about not telling you everything. I want to tell you, but I don’t think you’ll believe me,” I told him, desperate for a chance to explain, but still not sure exactly how to convince him of the truth.
“Hope, I trust you. I don’t think you’d lie to me and whatever you know, I’ll listen with an open mind,” he replied, running his hand through the longer strands of hair on the top of his head. “It’s been a little crazy today. We just got my grandfather settled,” he waved his hand at the door he’d come from, “Hospice is coming tomorrow.”
I inhaled sharply, my gaze drifting to the door where his grandfather was safely ensconced away from my prying eyes and ability. “Can I meet him?” I asked, hating myself for what I was about to do but not seeing another way to convince Houston. He looked startled but nodded, his expression turning to one of almost gratitude. I followed him into the room, glancing back to see Joy slip down the stairs and out the front door.
Houston’s grandfather rested on a wide bed, medical equipment already set up next to him. His face was gaunt but his eyes remained a bright, intelligent blue.
“Who do we have here?” He asked, his voice surprisingly robust.
“This is Hope,” Houston answered, taking my hand and tugging me forward. “My girlfriend.” I glanced at him in surprise and his answering glance begged me to play along. I nodded, smiling at the older man.
“I’m Theodore,” he told me. “But you can call me Teddy.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Teddy,” I said softly, seeing how little time he had left. “You must be proud of the life you lived, your kids and grandkids.”
He gave me a sharp glance as he nodded. “I am. They are a legacy to be proud of.” I swallowed, nodding in agreement. “You want to take a stab at guessing when I’m going to die?”
I blinked, shocked as I wondered if he somehow knew about my ability. Houston groaned, “Gramps, it’s morbid.”
“It’s a fact of life, boy. One you have to accept. Death is inevitable. So don’t waste your life.” He shook his finger at us and I couldn’t stop a grudging grin. “See, she understands,” he crowed, giving me a shrewd glance. “She’ll play.” He directed me to a calendar displayed prominently on the wall and I walked over. Only one day had a mark on it and the initials MD next to it, and I could only assume it was Houston’s Mom. “Miranda was willing to give it a go,” he explained, confirming what I’d thought. “They gave me two weeks,” he clarified, “If that helps you.”
I reached for a marker, going unerringly to the day he was going to die and marking it, adding the exact time of death and my initials. “I think you’ll surprise them,” I told him with a smile. He stared at me appraisingly as Houston made an unhappy noise next to me. “It was nice to meet you, Teddy. I hope to see you again.”
“You as well, Hope,” he called after me as Houston dragged me out the room and all the way to the porch.
“This isn’t a joke,” he griped, his hand tight around my arm. “Putting the exact time. Giving him longer than two weeks. I expected differently from you, Hope.” I could see the pain reflected in his eyes and hated that I was the one th
at put it there.
“That’s when he’s going to die, Houston. I know that’s when because I know when everyone is going to die. That’s how I knew something was going to happen at the pep rally that day.” He shook his head, releasing me as he stepped back. “It’s true,” I stressed. “I trust you, Houston. I’m trusting you with my truth, but I need you to believe me. And this is the only way I know how to convince you.”
“You need to go,” he muttered, his expression closed as he straightened. “I can’t. Not now.”
I pressed my lips together and nodded, hoping he would eventually understand. I stumbled down the steps as he went back inside, slamming the door behind him. I walked to the car, not paying attention as I climbed inside.
“What was that about?”
I shrieked, my heart hammering as Joy popped up behind me. I stared at her in the rearview mirror, waiting for my heart rate to return to normal. “I told him when your grandfather is going to die,” I admitted, remorse running through me as I glanced down at my lap. “It’s the only way I could think to convince him.”
“Pretty smart,” she offered, her eyes sympathetic. “Gramps is cool. He’s got that whole calendar thing and he gets it.”
I nodded, my lips twisting as I stared at the house, “Death is inevitable.”
“Yeah,” Joy agreed, resting her gloved hands on my seat. “So, you wanted to see me?”
“One of the people from the pep rally is still destined to die.” She sucked in a breath as I continued. “The rest are all years away but this guy, Brandon, he’s going to die in 6 days, 4 hours, 26 minutes, and 11 seconds.”
“If we don’t stop it,” Joy said determinedly.
“Yeah, but all I know is when. We need more.” I met her eyes in the rearview mirror, seeing her face tighten as she understood what I wanted. “We need to know how.”
Her nod was a little wobbly, but she firmed her chin. “I need to touch him.”
“I have an idea about how we can do that,” I mentioned, arching an eyebrow at her. “How do you feel about going to a high school party?”
Chapter Fourteen
Joy
I smoothed my sleeves down for the millionth time, making sure every inch of my skin was covered. I might have to touch this Brandon guy but that didn’t mean I was willing to risk accidentally living through anyone else’s death tonight.
Anxiety crawled through me, raising my heartrate as I stared at myself in the mirror. Hope hadn’t been much help with what to wear to a high school party, but considering my affliction, it didn’t really matter. I was doomed to a life of sidelong glances and snide comments about how modest I was.
Finally, I couldn’t put it off any longer and peeked my head out my door. The house was silent since Gramps had decreed they were going out to dinner tonight, which made sneaking out a whole lot easier. I’d managed to get out of it the same way I always did, using the excuse that crowded spaces upset me. I knew I had disappointed him and if this wasn’t so important, I might have actually gone with them for once.
I shook off the lingering guilt as I crept down the stairs. Brandon had less time to live than Gramps, and we had to stop his death. If not, then I was doomed to die in less than 4 weeks along with Hope, and I wasn’t okay with that fact. Maybe if I hadn’t met her and realized I wasn’t alone, then dying might have been okay. I might have welcomed it even. I’d died enough times and in enough ways that death no longer scared me.
Human touch on the other hand…..
Just the thought caused fear to trickle through me. I curled my fingers, the suede gloves tightening on my knuckles. Normally, I wore leather, the thicker the barrier the less likely I would be to accidentally feel someone’s death, but tonight was different. Tonight, I needed to feel his death, dissect it and hopefully save him.
I locked the house behind me and quickly walked to the corner where I was supposed to meet Hope. I bounced on my heels, nerves mixing with a hint of anticipation. Part of me was excited about going to a party, seeing what it was like to be normal. Fear held me hostage most of the time, but tonight I was going to embrace the opportunity to see how regular teenagers lived.
Her car rolled to a stop in front of me, backfiring loudly, and I hopped in before any of the neighbors decided to be nosy and look out their windows.
“Nice outfit,” Hope commented and I glanced over at her, doing a double take when I saw what she was wearing. “Yeah, go ahead and say it. I look like a hooker.”
“A high end one,” I offered, lifting my shoulders as I took in the silky halter top and tiny black shorts.
“Oh, well, at least I’ve got that going for me. I’m not cheap,” she huffed, turning the corner as I settled the seatbelt over me. “Amber insisted I have a makeover. I was at her house for 3 hours, 42 minutes, and 37 seconds.” She pointed at her eyes, fluttering her eyelashes. “These are fake and annoying. I can’t touch my eyes because I might smudge the smoky look she created.” She spared a glance at me. “I look like a raccoon that got punched.”
I snorted, trying not to laugh because she was right. “Well, at least I know the smoky eye isn’t for me.”
“Laugh it up, sister. She might go after you next.”
My breath caught at her casual use of the term sister and I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Do you think we might actually be – sisters?” I crossed my fingers, hoping she might be coming around to the idea. Her face hardened and she didn’t answer for the longest time.
“Maybe,” she said finally and the breath I’d been holding rushed out. “My…” she struggled for a second, “Dad said some things the other night. He was drunk.” I heard a note of bitterness in her voice and resisted the urge to reach over and comfort her. I twisted my hands in my lap, my own thoughts bitter, as I questioned how comforting my touch could be with gloves on. “What he said….well, you were right, let’s leave it at that, but something else he said,” her tone snapped me out of my own thoughts and I glanced at her. “He made it sound like they had to protect me,” she sent me a sidelong glance, forcing a light chuckle. “Crazy, right?”
I shook my head, considering the idea. “Not really.” She sent me a questioning glance and I shrugged. “What you can do is insane. What I can do is insane. But what we can do together?” I let that hang there for a moment. “Think about what we’re about to do. We’re going to try and change someone’s death. Prevent it.” I nodded to myself, my voice dropping as I continued, “I could see how dangerous it would be if people knew. They’d try to use us, exploit us, or –” I stopped before I finished, but Hope had gotten the gist.
“Kill us.” Her hands tightened on the steering wheel but she didn’t say anything else and we rode the rest of the way in silence.
***
“Who’s the Goth girl?” The angry question brought my attention back to Hope and the glaring girl who stood next to her with her arms crossed.
“Houston’s sister,” Hope answered succinctly. “Joy meet Amber.” I nodded at her, not bothering to offer my hand. I wasn’t here for her. Her gaze raked over me, dismissing me the second she turned back to Hope.
“Brandon just got here,” she informed us, wiggling her pinky finger toward a raging bonfire. “He went to the keg so I’d give him, oh, half an hour before you make your move.”
“Why are we waiting half an hour?” I butted in, drawing Amber’s unwilling attention.
“To give him time to drink his beer,” she said impatiently and Hope leaned over to me.
“She thinks I have a better shot if I approach him when he’s drunk,” she explained, not bothering to lower her voice as she smiled at Amber.
“Beer goggles,” I murmured, my gaze going back to the swarm of teenagers – my peers – I mentally reminded myself. We stood on the outskirts, neither of us comfortable with the crowd of people, but while I eagerly watched them, I noticed Hope kept her head down.
“Houston’s sister? Seriously?” Amber’s voice drew me back into the
ir conversation once again and I nodded at her, but she wasn’t looking at me. “Why doesn’t she go to school with us?”
“Because I’m special,” I interjected before Hope had a chance to reply, tired of being ignored.
“Like short bus special?” Amber verified, her gaze dropping to my gloves.
I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, something like that.”
“So long as you’re not a criminal like you’re brother,” she huffed, tossing her hair as Hope chuckled, shaking her head like she’d heard all this before.
“My brother is not a criminal,” I replied crisply. “At least, not anymore.”
Amber smiled condescendingly. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, its leopards don’t change their spots and neither do men.”
I glanced at Hope. “I don’t like her,” I said to her, pointing at Amber, whose jaw dropped at my remark. “I’m going to find Brandon.”
“You know what he looks like?”
I nodded, not wanting to admit I’d stared at his yearbook picture way longer than necessary. “Yes,” I said simply, walking off as Amber started questioning Hope. The crowd swallowed me almost instantly, but I knew Hope would stay right where I’d left her. She didn’t want to chance eye contact with anyone, and as I weaved through the throng of undulating bodies, careful not to brush any of them, I could understand.
I’d always thought my affliction was the worst thing on Earth, but gloves and clothing at least acted as a buffer. Hope didn’t even have that option. She was destined to always see when someone was going to die and as my gaze darted around, I couldn’t begin to imagine the weight of that knowledge.
I paused as I came to the keg, my gaze scanning for Brandon’s shaggy brown hair. I lifted on my tiptoes trying to get a better view when someone’s arm snaked around my waist.
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