“Of course not!” I faked a laugh. “Not even.”
“Then get in the truck.”
“I can’t! I have school tomorrow.”
“Skip it.”
“I wish I could—for a lot of reasons.” I shifted uneasily on the driveway. “But I have responsibilities, like the school newspaper, homework, and my friends.”
“Your wannabe magician boyfriend?” he asked with a sneer.
“Leave Josh out of this. And shouldn’t you have some kind of school, too?”
“Not me.” He grinned wickedly. “Besides, I got to move on this fast. Tuttle may have more than old pictures.”
“Like what?”
“Well …” Dominic drew out the word deliberately. “He mentioned a trunk of old books.”
“And?” I prompted.
“One of them could be the remedy book.”
I appreciated Dominic’s dedication to helping Nona, but I resented being left out and wanted to be the one to find the remedy book.
Remembering Dominic studying me, as if he could see through my clothes, added to my sour mood. What was it with him anyway? Why had he invited me to go with him? He usually shunned the human race, so his sudden offer was confusing. Maybe he felt sorry for me because I’d failed to find results on my own. Well, I’d show him! While he drove to another state after clues, I’d find out more right here.
And I knew just where to start. Agnes’s Bible. Taking out the thick, brittle book, I fluttered through age-worn pages and made a list of births, marriages, and deaths going back almost two hundred years. My family tree branched across paper with mostly unfamiliar names. So many unknown, forgotten relatives with tragedies and triumphs recorded in brief passages.
By the next morning, I had twelve pages of information in my notebook—and I was eager to show it to Dominic. Only there was no word from him yet. I jumped whenever the phone rang and kept listening for the sound of a truck. Nona didn’t seem concerned, and assured me we’d hear from him when he had news. Her voice rang with hope, and I was relieved she’d showed no signs of illness. Instead, she was like a super woman, already in her office making calls before I’d even started breakfast.
There was nothing for me to do, except go to school—which I so did not want to do. The news about Danielle nearly bleeding to death on the football field would be Gossip Topic #1. And if anyone found out about my part in that drama, I’d become Topic #2.
Penny-Love met me on the way, and I was relieved she didn’t even mention Danielle. Old news already, I thought hopefully. Instead Penny-Love went on and on about the Fall Fling Dance: what she was wearing, the guy she planned to ask, and elaborate decorating plans.
Relieved to slip into my normal routine, I only half-listened. It was like there were two Sabines, one who could act like a dance was as important as world peace, and another who heard voices and had psychic visions. Guess it was no accident my sign was Gemini. I never talked about weird stuff at school. Mostly, I did a lot of listening. Especially with Penny-Love. It’s funny how people liked you when you let them talk. After being run out of my last school, it was a relief to be accepted and even popular.
Penny-Love was the Queen Bee of Sheridan High. A self-proclaimed diva, she knew everything about everyone, sometimes even before they knew. She filled me in on the latest three D’s: dating, dumping, and dissing. I nodded at appropriate pauses and tried to pay attention. But my mind kept wandering back to the cozy yellow house on Lilac Lane. How was Nona doing alone? Had her upbeat attitude been real or an act? Why was I wasting my time at school when she might need me? I had a strong feeling I should have stayed home.
At my locker I found out why.
“Well if it isn’t Sabine,” a voice spoke low and menacing. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”
An icy chill swept over me as I faced Evan Marshall. Tall, with broad shoulders and narrowed dark eyes, he stood in front of my locker. His aura sparked with crimson and a green as dark as nightforest. His scowl was evidence he still blamed me for ruining his friendship with Josh. But it was his own deceit that backfired on him.
“Move aside,” I ordered. “You’re blocking my locker.”
“Are you always this rude in the morning?” he drawled, bending slightly to look into my eyes.
I wanted to fire back with some witty comment, but what was the use? I didn’t have the energy to educate jerks. So I just glared and repeated, “Move.”
“Sure, sure—after we have a little talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Really?” His sarcastic smile made me shiver. “Not even about poor, crazy Danielle?”
“Have some respect. She was your girlfriend.”
“I know, and I felt bad when I heard she was in the hospital. So I went to visit her yesterday.”
“You did?” I asked, startled. “How did your new girlfriend feel about that?”
“Shelby said it was cool that I cared about an old friend, and that I’m the sweetest, nicest guy she’s ever met.”
“She needs to get out more. Now would you please move aside so I can get to my locker.”
“Not until I thank you for helping Danielle,” he said with barbed sarcasm.
“Me?” I shook my head. “I don’t know what you mean. I didn’t do anything.”
“Oh don’t be modest. I know what happened Friday night.” He leaned in closer and ominously lowered his voice. “The nurses wouldn’t let me talk with Danielle, but I had a long conversation with her father. And he told me some amazing things. About you.”
I gulped and glanced down at the cement ground.
“How did you know Danielle was in trouble?” Evan demanded.
“A lucky guess.”
“You guessed she was bleeding to death on the football field at night?”
It did sound kind of far-fetched when he put it that way. I twisted the end of my braid. “The bell is going to ring and I need my Lit book. I don’t have time to waste arguing with you.”
“Who’s arguing? I’m just asking some questions.”
“And blocking my locker.”
“Oh, am I?” His eyes glittered dangerously. “I am soooo sorry. I didn’t mean to inconvenience you and waste your valuable time. Thanks to you, I have tons of free time. You got me kicked off the football team and turned Josh against me. I owe you so much and I totally believe in payback.”
“Move out of my way!”
“Not until you answer one question.”
“Get lost!”
“What’s your secret?” he persisted. “I knew there was something strange about you from the start. Josh wouldn’t listen to me when I warned him you were trouble. It’s like you’ve cast a spell on him. He’s blind to you, but I’m not. You’re hiding something. I don’t know what it is … but I’m going to find out.”
Then he made a sweeping gesture toward my locker, stepped aside, and walked away.
I was still reeling from Evan’s threat when Josh showed up.
“Were you just talking to Evan?” he asked, frowning as he peered down the hall where Evan had turned around the corner.
“Uh … yeah.” My heart was still pounding, and I felt a wild sense of paranoia. Like I wasn’t safe anywhere, not at school or home.
“Was he bothering you?”
“Uh, not really.” I grabbed some books and slammed the locker shut.
“Then what did he want?”
I glanced at my Lit book. “He asked about our homework assignment.”
“Really?” Tension eased into a wistful smile. “He told me he was getting serious about homework, but I had my doubts. If he improves his grades, he’ll be back on the team.”
I bit my lip. “He needs to improve more than his grades.”
“Don’t be so hard on him. Sure, he made some mistakes but he’s a cool guy once you get to know him.”
“I know more than enough.”
“Evan told me he felt bad for those things he said
about you.”
“You’re talking to him again?” My heart lurched. “After everything he did?”
“He lives next door and our parents are friends. I can’t just ignore him and I don’t want to. Everyone needs a second chance. I feel bad how things turned out.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Yeah, I know. But it’s hard to stay mad. I keep thinking of all the good times we had, and even the bad times when my brother was sick. Evan stuck by him until the end. I’ve got to stick by him, too, I owe him that much.”
“You owe him nothing.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged, but his tone wasn’t convincing. He lifted his head as the warning bell rang. “We better hurry to class.”
I nodded, uneasy about Evan’s influence over Josh, especially after Evan’s threat to find out my “secret.” If he did, he wouldn’t hesitate to destroy me.
As Josh and I walked, he described his weekend trip to attend a cousin’s wedding. I debated over telling him the truth. It would be a huge relief to be honest, but I was afraid he wouldn’t believe me. If I explained about my spirit guide, ghostly dreams, and the prophetic vision that led to a boy’s death, he’d think I was delusional.
Before we entered our first period Lit class, Josh ripped out a piece of paper from a notebook. With lightning quick fingers, he folded it, smaller and smaller, rounding the corners, sharpening the end to a point, until I recognized the shape.
“For you, Sabine,” he said, holding out a paper heart.
Words swelled up my throat and I hugged the paper to my chest. He put his arms around me, drawing me close. His touch was gentle and his dark brown hair smelled fresh with a scent of lime shampoo. Not caring if anyone was watching, I lifted my chin and met his lips in a gentle kiss.
And I vowed to never do anything to risk losing him. At school I would be totally normal. No more “weird” stuff.
Still, I had to figure out a way to help Nona. I decided to get advice from a trusted friend who already knew my secrets. So I told Josh that I couldn’t eat lunch with him because I had some last minute work to do on the school paper.
As expected, I found the editor, Manny Devries, in front of a computer terminal. Manny’s black hair was twisted into cornrows, and he sported a new pierced arrow-shaped eyebrow ring. He wore black zippered jeans and leather sandals. It could be snowing and he’d still wear sandals. Not even harsh weather could dampen his style.
When he saw me, he flashed a pearly grin. “What’s up, Beany?”
I hated that nickname, but let it pass because I needed his help. Manny was a born snoop, and darned good at it. He’d discovered what happened at my last school and agreed to keep my secret. In return I helped with predictions for his “Mystic Manny” newspaper column. Whenever I heard people rave about his amazing talent for predicting the future, I smiled.
Now I glanced furtively around the classroom, checking to make sure we were alone. The only other person present was Mr. Blankenship, but he was busy grading papers. “I need some advice,” I whispered to Manny.
“Lay it on me, Beany.” He rolled a chair next to him and gestured for me to sit down. “Tell Uncle Manny everything.”
“Don’t patronize me. This is serious.”
“Don’t I look serious?”
“Not with that cocky grin.”
He pressed his lips into a stern line. “Is this better?”
“Now you look like a demented psycho.” I lightly punched his shoulder. “Stop kidding around. Nona is in trouble and needs me to find an old book.”
“So ask Thorn. She’s the finder.”
I paused to consider this. When Manny first introduced me to his Goth friend, Thorn, she’d wowed me with an amazing skill for finding things. But I was put off by her brash attitude, multiple body piercings, and metal-spiked collar. If I wanted to stay cool with my other friends, hanging out with a Goth chick was a bad move. She wasn’t any more eager to be seen with me. But she’d been quick to help when I needed her, and I discovered a kindred soul underneath the Morticia makeup. Like me, she’d been born with a psychic ability. Psychometry, she called it. Only she was cool with her skills, while I was still dealing.
“This is beyond Thorn’s talents,” I told Manny. “What I’m searching for was lost a long time ago.”
He arched his pierced brow. “How long?”
“Like a hundred years, give or take a decade. To track it down, I need to find out about my ancestors. But I don’t know where to look.”
“No problem.” He spun around to his computer. “I know tons of genealogy sites. Tell me the names and I’ll find the information.”
I almost fell over with relief. “It’s that easy?”
“Did you ever doubt me?”
“I’ll tell you when you deliver the answers.”
“Oh, I will. But it’ll cost you,” he added with a wicked chuckle.
Tilting my head, I asked cautiously, “What?”
“I’m writing another ten years in the future spotlight for the paper, and I could use your all-knowing insight. My victim—er, subject—is a freshman named Jayvon Bonner. Peek into your crystal ball for me and I’ll check the computer for you.”
“I can’t promise results, but I’ll try.”
“Fair enough.” He scratched his chin. “So whom should I look up?”
*
In fifth period, during a particularly boring assignment, my mind drifted and just like that I knew Jayvon Bonner’s future. He’d move to Colorado and train as a figure skater, only an ankle injury would end that career. Then he’d move to New York and work off-Broadway on set design. His artistic talent would eventually lead him to a successful career as an illustrator of children’s books.
When I met Manny in our sixth-period class, he was delighted when I handed him the paper. His black eyes shone with discovery and I knew he’d found out something, too. When I asked, he put his fingers to his lips. “Too many people around,” he whispered. “Wait till after class.”
So I went to work on my job as proofreader for the school newspaper. It was an easy job that gave me an “in” to school happenings with zero personal risk. Usually, I enjoyed my work. But the article I’d been assigned to edit, describing a chess tournament, was totally brain numbing. I was relieved when the bell rang and kids swarmed out to freedom.
I strode over to Manny’s desk. “Out with it!”
He flashed a cocky grin. “First tell me how brilliant I am.”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re brilliant.”
“That didn’t sound sincere.”
“Your brilliance is so enormous, the only thing bigger is your inflated ego. Is that sincere enough?”
He laughed. “Beany, you kill me.”
“Don’t tempt me. So did you find out what happened to Agnes’s daughters?”
“No. That search came up empty.” He tapped the eraser end of a pencil on his desk. “But by checking town records, I found info on the woman who took care of Agnes’s daughters after she left. Martha Poindexter Kabkee, born 1863, died 1943.”
“How does that help?” I asked, discouraged.
“If she kept in touch with the sisters after they were adopted, there could be a document trail. Letters, postcards, diaries. Martha’s descendants may know something.”
“But how do we find them?”
“Already started.” Manny held up a computer printout and I leaned in closer.
“There’s only one name listed here.”
“Martha had one son, who had two children but one died young. So that leaves her granddaughter who by coincidence lives in California. Not very far away either, a retirement resort in Pine Peaks.”
“Where’s that?”
“Up in the Sierras, not far from Lake Tahoe.”
I nodded, feeling hopeful. “So did you call her?”
“Affirmative. But she’s on a cruise till Friday. I’ll give you the number and you can call her then.”
&n
bsp; “That won’t work,” a voice interrupted and I turned around to find a petite raven-haired girl dressed in black leather. “No one will tell you anything important over the phone.”
“Thorn!” I gave a start. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to know you’re looking for some old lady.” Thorn’s purple-black lips curved into a smile. “But you’re going about it all wrong.”
“What do you think we should do?” I retorted.
“Why call when you can go there in person?” Her smile widened. “It just happens I have an aunt who lives in Pine Peaks and she’s been begging me to visit. So I’ll drive you.”
The next few days flashed by with a flood of activity. Packing, getting permission to miss school Friday, collecting homework in advance, and calming a panicked Penny-Love who was counting on my help with the Fall Fling Dance.
“I’ll be back by Saturday afternoon,” I promised her as we walked to school Wednesday morning. “Don’t worry.”
“Worrying is what I do best,” she said lightly.
“And you do it so well. But seriously, no way am I missing the dance. I’ve already got the perfect dress—and the perfect date to go with it.”
After school, I checked my list of everything I had to do. I hated leaving Nona, but at least Dominic was back and I knew he’d keep an eye on her. Unfortunately, his trip had been a total failure. He’d returned in a dark, discouraged mood. It turned out Mr. Tuttle drank too much and lied for sport. There were no journals, no distant Aunt Agnes, only a filthy living room littered with empty bottles.
I felt bad for Dominic, but hopeful for myself because when I’d consulted with Opal she’d hinted that I’d find answers in Pine Peaks. I imagined this scene where I handed Nona the remedy book. She’d burst into grateful tears and throw her arms around me. Dominic would be so overcome by admiration and congratulate me on my success. “I didn’t think you could do it, but you proved me wrong. You’re amazing,” he’d say. Then he’d hold my hand, look into my eyes and pull me close. … WAIT! What was I thinking anyway?
That night the dancing girl returned to my dreams.
Surrounded by male admirers, she laughed and flirted, her full skirt whirling as she took turns dancing with each young man. When the handsome stranger appeared, the dream changed from light to dark, and they faced each other on the ragged cliff. He reached for her, but she pulled back and shouted at him. I couldn’t make out her words, but I felt sadness so deep, as if hearts all around the world were breaking.
Last Dance Page 3
